#I love One's ''Oh fuck you bitch!'' expression in the last panel
Note
So i was just rotating your "Jack drake lives au" in my mind and at the same time remembered those panels of superman shaking hands with Some Fucking Guy (i think he was being a bitch to Lois or smth) and he makes direct unflinching eye contact with the tight lipped smile and his grip is a little too tight to be friendly
Anyways im not saying he hates Jack but i do think Kon off-handedly mentioned the "joke" about his nail polish and Clark went "oh really now?" And didnt forget
So rip Jack at that family dinner night bc not only is Lois waiting for an excuse to obliterate him but Clark is right there with her and if jack thinks that Good Ol Country folk Ma and Pa will back him up then hes in for a surprise lol
oh yeah absolutely!!!! the thing is. literally Nobody likes jack in this au ksjdhfkd like kon and dick absolutely have texted each other to bitch about him, ma openly shakes her head when she hears about how he treats tim (and she WILL speak her mind if he ever tries to shut that sweet boy down in front of her!), cass literally won't speak to him bc he failed the vibe check so bad, etc...
and like. no one is telling tim this. they Know it'll make him feel like he has to defend his dad bc he loves him! but sometimes tim mentions oh he can't join for games this friday night, he and his dad are going on an early morning fishing trip. and cass just meets kon's eyes across the room behind tim's back and rolls her eyes so hard.
but yeah. clark will mostly let lois handle the obliteration with ma's backup as needed bc he knows she's got this. his form of expressing his severe disapproval of jack, his views, and his parenting? supporting tim. thanking him for doing the dishes after dinner, praising his work ethic, ruffling his hair and telling him he did a great job with that case he wrapped up last week, etc. it makes tim go "!!! :D!!!" like that pic of the cat getting patted. tim has always craved approval and affirmation and affection from people around him and he gets it in spades from the kents. and jack sees his son light up and open up around these people way more than he does with him. it's not a good feeling.
it's just tough bc like, tim doesn't want anyone getting mad at jack. but the idea of anyone getting mad at jack on his behalf is also just such a shock to him. he's not used to that. he feels like he has to manage jack and be responsible for him in a lot of ways (if jack says something shitty in front of lois, tim cringes because now jack is gonna get his ass handed to him and feel humiliated, and that's his dad and he was trying to help, and also he feels like it's on him that his dad is being like that. why? oh you know.) (its the unnamed emotional abuse, thats why.)
but also clark and kon watch lois ask tim how his degree is going now that he's in engineering school, and lightly rib him and ask if she can't poach him into investigative journalism instead, because she doesn't usually take interns but she'd make an exception! and tim cocks his head like a dog and says well, maaaybe he'd be down to consider an internship if she's serious? it does sound cool. what are the details? and jack, who barely gets more than one-word answers when he talks to tim about his future, is just kinda seething. heart rate goin up bc hes mad. and kon and clark just exchange extremely amused glances across the kitchen and sip their hot chocolates.
like the tim and jack dynamic is complicated; it'd be a lot easier if the love wasn't so real but it is present. its just that jack is soooo emotionally immature and grounded in Classic American Manhood and ideas of fatherhood. and the fact that tim is growing beyond that and not fitting in the mold he's "supposed" to eats at him. its a tragedy but also we are all pointing and laughing at jack every time superfam make him grind his teeth.
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Trigun Bookclub Trimax Vol10 Part 4
Vol01: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Vol02: Part 1 | Part 2
Trimax: Vol01 Part 1Vol01 Part 2 | Vol02 Part 1Vol02 Part 2 | Vol 03 Part 1 | Vol03 Part2 | Vol04 Part1 | Vol04 Part2 | Vol05 | Vol06 | Vol07 | Vol08 Part1 | Vol08 Part2 | Vol09 Part1 | Vol09 Part2 | Vol10 Part1 | Vol10 Part2 | Vol10 Part3 | Vol10 Part4
God why is this volume so long and full of so many epic pictures
Commentary for chapter 6 and 7 of Vol10, will do the last one in another post!
While I'm doing this, reading each chapter and after that, doing my commentary, I notice the effect of the volume lessening...damn! I should read it in one go first and THEN write my thougths but I'm afraid I'll forget what I want to say. Vol9 and Vol10 are in a way really meant to be read in one go for the full effect.
Chapter 6:
Yes! Wolfwood trying to end this fight not with his weapon, but with his bare hands is so important! He's not fighting to kill, he's not EoM's puppet, he's trying to bring back a friend...I can't say why but also the fact that this obviously pains Razlo more than bullets also feels right. That's how it should be.
And then...there's Vash.
Oh god and then there's Vash.
This is...one of the most cruel images of Vash yet. To me it is THE most emotional in the whole series. Pure desperation. Sadness for things lost. Vash allowing himself to break down while we only hear the punches of Wolfwood beating down on Razlo. Looking at this image makes me sad. Damn it Nightow for making Vash have to grief before they even had the chance to start their future together.
But again, props to Nightow for the storytelling.
Vash promised Wolfwood to leave Razlo to him BUT NOBODY DARE INTERFERE.
LIVIOOOOOOO
And just when we fought we had gotten rid of him and he couldn't piss us off any more he's coming back round to hurt our boy
THANK YOU RAZLO. There can never be enough bullet holes in this dead man's body.
I really really like that Livio is not treating Razlo like the bad guy here, but acknowledges that Razlo is also a victim in a way. A victim of having to live through the fucked up shit that Livio could not cope with, of having to deal with that. (I hope I worded that all right, since I don't really know anything about the medical condition of which Razlo is the result?)
You did it, man. You saved Livio. And now you're even a person he looks up to you. Of the feels.
CRYBABY LIVIO IS BACK BITCHES
oooh you earned that cigarette, Wolfie
Chapter 7:
I just love the kids and Melanie and how lively it seems. Surely it was hard and filled with loss as everybody had lost their parents, but it must also have been a childhood filled with love.
Baby Wolfwood oh my sweet boy...
Sometimes I have wondered how little Vash and Wolfie would have gotten along. Or well, I'm sure they would've gotten along. I just would love to see them interact as kids. Out there, little Wolfwood, a long time ago, was once a boy drifting in space who would later be your most trusted friend. And who would, not in every way, but in an important way, save you.
Ah, just below is the panel where it says "six years have passed since that day" that always confuses me?? Still now because 6 years is not possible? I will wait for any explanation that you, my fellow bookclub readers, will come up with.
Don't scream at him!!!
Vash wanting to explain it to them is killing me. And Wolfwood's expression here is so...unclouded. Completely honest. Vulnerable. No my sweet boy you are no monster, did that not get into your head??
With the little time left...maybe he's right, maybe he can not explain to the children what he is, all the complex stuff.
You know, Vash, Wolfwood is tired. This moment, he just wants to spend it with you, and isn't that enough?
Wolfwood saying this...and then Vash begging to GOD, praying to not lose that man.
I never really got the grip on what Vash means with "stupid things". There's been this theory that Vash denies Wolfwood telling Vash his true feelings, but I don't think so. I think they both at this point know how they feel about each other. I think Vash just...can't stand to hear the emotional talk now because it's simply too much. Maybe it would be nice if they could talk out their innermost feelins at last. But maybe, they don't need that. Have their actions not proven enough already by now?
Throw that confetti guys
If some of you are on twitter and have followed the trigun fandom there you might have stumbled upon the marriage tweet my friend made when she read this scene the first time. I have nothing to add apart from that it rips my heart and soul in two.
Now, there's one more chapter to this volume but this arc kinda already concludes with this here...and so I just want to say: I have NEVER before read something that felt so deeply emotional and tragic like this whole...Wolfwoof dying scene. Or, I might have and I might not remember, but in my mind this is the most tragic thing I can recall. Because...it takes its time. It already starts in Vol08, with Wolfwood's inner thoughts, and then it goes on for the whole next Volume where the stakes are getting higher and higher, until Vash appears to save them and save Wolfwood but it STILL is not enough. And Vash is shocked, is in denial, is in anger and is griefing and then we get a short moment of breathing, before it hits us again. We're living this all through Vash, and...and he can't bring himself to smile in the end. He can't. He only stares blankly until he then slumps down.
Oh, and I read in the Trigun Wiki I think that this scene here is the only scene where we see Wolfwood cry. Which....gives it also so much more impact.
And, all in all, I think this is not the worst ending for Wolfwood. Of course I am devastated. Reading so much fanfiction, seeing so much fanart, makes it pretty easy to forget that there is no future for these two in canon...not together. (which is WHY I read the fanfiction because good lord did I need something to cope) And when I think about how they never get the chance to live the life together as they both may have wanted...then the feeling of loss hits the hardest.
But then, on the other hand: First, killing off one of your main characters while giving them a metaphorical wedding scene is a sick move. An evil, sick move. And second: it fits the series. Because Trigun feels so real, and in real life, things don't always turn out the good way. And Wolfwood, with his life, never really had any future...but the thing is also, he died while knowing that he was able to achieve what he always wanted: the orphanage is safe and he brought Livio back. It is all he ever wanted to do, and it is thanks to Vash that he was able to do it. Would it have been dope if he lived on and if he and Vash could build their own orphanage and be caretaker dads together? Oh hell yeah. But, within the story of the series...it was always unrealistic. Wolfwood died smiling- whatever we think about it, he was content with what he achieved. (I think so at least! The panels where he cries out, they always strike me as a defiance, not wanting to die, but that might be reading to much into it. The whole thing for him is so emotional, the confetti, which tells him they welcome him back, despite knowing who he is...it would be a wonder if he didn't cry. So it might just be the emotionality of the whole scene.
PHEW I'm sure I could say more if I thought a bit about it but I'm gonna shut up here now. Time to do the last chapter, though I'll make another post, this one is far too long already.
#trigun#trigunbookclub#I only manage to sound more coherent and not constantly scream in my commentary because this is my third proper reread already#And I've looked at this pages far more often
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The Princess and The Pogue (pt. 6)
Pairing: JJ x Female!Reader / Topper x Female!Reader
Word Count: 3.7k
Warnings: Swearing, mild smut, fluff, angst, mentions of abuse (wow a lot)
Part Summary: The aftermath of the bonfire is pushing you to your limit. Meanwhile, JJ is slowly losing himself in his grief.
Masterlist
You and Topper meet your friends at the Ocean Club for lunch as arranged over text after the chaos at the Boneyard. You, Rafe, Rhett, Kelce, and Topper are all gathered around the table on the patio of the club. Despite looking put-together, you're all discombobulated in the head. All of your Kook friends are startled, to say the least by the events. More than half of them have never been close to a gun and all of them share a hatred of Pogues.
Your brother Rhett invited his "friend" Crystal. She's been fawning after him since their freshman year. They hooked up one time and she was practically picking out an engagement ring. She hangs around Rhett, Rafe, and all of their friends, hoping one of them would show a slight bit of interest. Her bottle black hair and bottle tan scream more New Jersey than OBX, but she throws on a Lily Politzer dress calls herself a Kook. She's always been low-key intimidated by you and envious even. She wants your title of the Princess of the OBX, but she struggles to get past being an associate. In summary, Crystal thinks acting like a stuck-up brat is how to be a Kook. She's delusional.
"Last night was unreal,” Kelce exhales deeply as he leans back in his chair.
“You know how Pogues can be,” Topper remarks bitterly, placing his arm across your shoulders.
"Where were you last night?" Rafe questions your brother from down the table.
"My dad had me in Charleston on business," Rhett explains with a roll of his eyes.
Crystal places her hand on Rhett's arm, giving it a supportive squeeze. The sight nearly makes you gag. Never in a million years will you call her your sister-in-law.
"Lucky you," Kelce chuckles.
"Yeah you really dodged a bullet," Rafe makes a pun.
"Nice Rafe," Topper nods his head slowly, giving his friend a disapproving look.
You toss around bits of lettuce around your salad, not exactly hungry. You wouldn't be here right now if Topper didn't already say you two were coming. It's not that you dislike your friends. You just don't feel like a review of last night and a Pogue roast session. Topper notices your lack of voice and interest in the group. He rubs his thumb over your shoulder, gaining your attention. You offer him a weak smile, your mind elsewhere.
“At least Maybank has what’s coming to him. Apparently, the police are looking for him," Crystal announces to the table.
Your fork slips from your hand accidentally, causing everyone to stare at you. “Wait, what?!" You glance between the girl and Topper to see if it's true. Topper doesn't react despite seeing your worried expression. Did Topper already know this? Did he not tell you?
Rafe frowns at your reaction and his flicker to Topper before he answers. “Yeah, people told their parents what happened and the parents reported the incident to the police," he explains hesitantly.
"As they should!” Crystal adds with a scoff of disgust, wearing a smug expression. “Who knows what that good-for-nothing white trash would’ve done to us if given the chance!" She justifies from across the table.
“Oh my God, shut the fuck up, Crystal!” You snap.
Everyone's jaws drop, astounded that such a vile sentence could come from your lips.
“Ugh! Excuse me?!” Crystal gasps.
You lean forward in your chair, turning your body to face the entitled girl.
“What? Are you deaf all of a sudden?" You wear a mocking grin. "Wouldn’t be surprised with your big loud fucking mouth going constantly!”
“What’s up your ass Whitfield?!” She fires back, drawing the attention of some other patrons.
“Your piece of shit attitude!” You bark.
"Ohh," Kelce drags out.
"Wow," Rafe struggles to hide his amusement.
Topper places a warning hand on your shoulder which you shake off.
“Why are you defending him? He pulled a gun on Topper! On you!” Crystal reminds you in a shout.
“I know that, Genius! Considering I was on the other side of said gun!” You hiss between your teeth.
“Then what possible justification is there for what he did?" She huffs. "JJ Maybank is insane! A trash Pogue!”
You slap your palms against the table, making everything raddle. “No, he’s not!”
"Y/N!" Your brother warns. "Remember where you are!"
You don't give a shit about where you are! If this girl continues to run her mouth, you're going to do a lot worse than yell.
“What? What is it about him, huh?" Crystal presses with a wicked smirk. "A charity thing? Wealthy guilt? Rooting for the underdog?”
“Crystal!” Rafe barks her name defensively.
“What?” The girl giggles. "It's true, isn't it? She's got a thing for the bottom feeder!"
“Back off!” Topper warns her, finally backing you up. He may agree with her, but once she starts making digs at you he doesn't hesitate to put her in her place.
Then, a lightbulb snaps on in her head. “Oh wait... or is it that you have the hots for him? Have you officially run out of guys on this side of the island? You a Pogue whore now?” She laughs mockingly.
Having enough of her, you impulsively pick up your full glass of white wine and toss it in her face. She gasps as the liquid covers her, her mouth in the shape of an "O." The boys' jaws hit the table as all they can do is watch you toss your drink at her white tube top.
"Y/N!" Topper utters your name in shock. This is nothing like you. You never lose your cool. You're always the calm and put together one of your friends.
"You bitch!" Crystal nearly cries. "This is designer!"
You groan, tossing your head back. "Oh my God! Get over yourself!"
“JJ Maybank should be sent to jail with his dad and if he rotted in there I doubt anyone would miss him!” Crystal remarks with a snarky smirk.
That's it! Without a second thought, you fly up from your chair, causing it to toss backward onto the floor. You leap across the full table, reaching your arms out for the girl. Kelce and Rafe move out the way as Crystal screams. Glasses and silverware fall off the table onto the wood-paneled floor patio floor. Topper moves quickly to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you back, but not before you get a good slap across her face.
“Woah, Woah, Woah there!” He pants, struggling to get a good hold on you.
“Let me go!” You scream, wiggling in his arms.
“Nope, not letting you get arrested today,” he grunts, stepping backward away from the table.
“You crazy whore!” Crystal yells, holding her cheek.
“You’re calling me a whore? That’s ironic considering your name is Crystal! You were practically named for the corner, bitch!” You fire back, tossing up your middle fingers at her while Topper drags you toward the exit.
“Damn!” Kelce laughs, covering his mouth to hide it.
You don't care who's watching. Crystal had this coming a long time ago and she's pushed your patience to its limit the moment she touched JJ. She'll know now to never speak of him.
“Fuck you, Y/N!” Crystal screams one last time.
Rhett grabs her arm, quietly begging for her to stop. He's certainly pissed at your impolite actions and will likely run to tell your parents.
“No thanks! I’m not into insecure, loudmouth, prostitutes!” You snap out one final dig before Topper gets you out the door.
You never noticed Pope cleaning a table just yards away, you were pretty preoccupied. He watched in awe as you quite literally flew across the table and slapped a girl because she spoke wrongly about JJ. After Pope saw you with Topper, he wasn't sure what to think. He was just as confused by your relationship as JJ. The turn of events he's just witnessed sealed the deal in his mind, you're in love with JJ, whether you know it or not.
________________________________
After his shift at the Club, Pope immediately went to John B's, knowing that's where his friends would be waiting to go out on the HMS Pogue.
“You guys! You’ll never believe what happened at work today!” He rushes out as he jogs down the dock.
“All the Kooks got swallowed up by the ocean?” JJ remarks bitterly in a grumble as he lounges on the front of the boat in his swim trunks
“No!” He pants as he slows to a stop. “Y/N and Crystal got into this huge fight!”
“What?!” John B gasps.
“What do you mean? Is she okay?!” Kiara questions as she helps Pope onto the boat.
“Yeah, yeah, she’s fine, but it was insane!" Pope laughs in amazement.
“What about?” Sarah inquires, eager to learn more.
“JJ!" Pope explains with the utmost enthusiasm. "Crystal was talking shit and the next thing I know Y/N throws her drink in her face and jumps at her. She slaps the hell out of her! Topper literally had to carry her out!”
“Holy shit,” John B mutters, wide-eyed.
“God I would’ve paid big bucks to see that,” Kiara chuckles.
“I can’t even envision Y/N doing something like that,” Sarah shakes her head in disbelief.
“I know, she’s usually so polite, calm, civilized," Kiara lists.
“You should’ve seen her guys. It was so badass. Lesson learned, don’t piss of Y/N!" Pope settles down on the bench beside Kiara.
“It was over me?” JJ finally voices quietly.
Pope hums. “Crystal wouldn’t stop and Y/N told her to “shut the fuck up.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard Y/N swear,” Sarah admits.
“That’s because she rarely does,” John B adds.
“So she’s not pissed at me?” JJ questions, his tone steady and expressionless.
“Based on how she was going to claw a girl’s eyes out in your defense, I vote no,” Pope determines.
JJ stands up in a rush, moving to hop down into the boat. “Well, where did she go after that? Did Topper take her home or did she-"
“She went looking for you,” you call out from the opposite end of the dock.
Everyone's heads snap in your direction. All of their eyes are wide with surprise. They all smile, honestly glad to see you. JJ, however, just stares blankly with an unreadable reaction.
“Hi JJ,” you greet timidly, doing your best to smile but you fall short.
The boy never breaks his eye contact with you as he jumps off the boat. He marches toward you and you're not sure what to expect. You haven't spoken since last night and you wouldn't exactly call that a conversation. "What do you want? Come to gloat?" He sasses.
“Okay, that’s our cue!” John B announces, starting up the engine.
“Yep! We'll catch you guys later!” Pope rushes out.
“Good to see you Y/N!” Sarah adds.
The Pogues desert JJ, leaving you two to work out your problems. JJ doesn't even turn around or react in the slightest as John B hurries the boat away. An ounce of you wonders if it's because he wants to stay, to talk to you.
Your eyes flicker down to his chest and torso. The bruises you saw last night as a tad more healed, but still, look awful. Now that his body is more exposed, you start to notice more marks and cuts all over his arms, chest, ribcage. The sight makes your heart sink. Without thought, you place your hand on JJ's stomach. "Did Top do this?" You worry. JJ's muscles clench under your touch. The feeling of your fingertips glide across his bare torso makes him go weak in the knees.
"No, got into a fight with a bobcat. You should see the bobcat," he smirks slightly, making light of the situation.
Your face falls as your eyes meet his. "Don't joke-"
"Sorry!" He steps back. "Can't take you seriously when everything you say is a lie," he scoffs.
Your brows scrunch together in confusion. "What are you even saying right now?!"
"It was all bullshit!" He snaps. "All of it! Everything you said! You're no different than the rest of them!" He exhales deeply, taking a moment to stare at you. He immediately regrets yelling considering how guilty he felt after what he did last night. Yet, JJ's hurt and he's pent up these emotions for days now. They're driving him nuts. "You lie, cheat, you take what you want when you want it no matter the consequences or who you hurt!"
"I never lied to you, JJ!" You defend, equally as passionate as him. "Every fucking word was true!" JJ's brows rise slightly at your use of language. It appearing so foreign coming from your mouth. You sigh, "Jesus, JJ you can be so oblivious sometimes!" You turn on your heels, marching back down the dock toward the yard.
"At least I'm not playing both sides of the fence! I know what I want and where I belong!" JJ fires.
You whip your head over your shoulder and stomp back toward him. "You freaking psycho!"
"Psycho! How am I a psycho?" JJ laughs, astonished.
"You pulled a gun!" You remind him.
"He was drowning me, Y/N!" JJ screams, getting in your face. You swallow hard. Despite the intensity of your arguing, you can't help but feel a rush of satisfaction having JJ so close again. JJ looks to the side, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. "I'm not gonna be your little plaything while you wait on Topper of all people to fuck you again," he shakes his head, meeting your gaze again. "I won't do it."
Your lips part, not believing the words coming from him right now. "Fuck you, JJ," you hiss between your teeth before turning again to walk away. JJ stays where he is and watches you stomp away. A part of him wants to beg you to stay, the other tells himself that you deserve everything he's saying.
You come to a slow stop as your mind races. You're Y/N Whitfield, you don't have to take this shit, especially from JJ Maybank of all people. You spin on your heels and JJ glances up as you do. "For someone so smart you're an idiot!" You clench your jaw. "Topper is my best friend, that's it!" You reason. "Whatever Sarah told you, that was before I met you! He could never be you!"
JJ simply stares at you blankly. The silence kills you. One minute he won't shut up and the next he stands there like an idiot.
"The way I feel when I'm with Topper..." you sigh, unsure how to describe it. You're not entirely what to call it. "It's comfortable, sure, but it's not anything glorious. There's no excitement there, just a sense of security from knowing each other for so long." You hesitate to continue, but since you'll probably never speak again, you might as well lay everything out on the table right? "You don't even have to touch me, your glance is enough to make me feel alive. When I went to bed, I thought of you. When I woke up, I thought of you. You're... you're it for me, JJ. I can't imagine there's anything better than when I'm with you. But... I guess we already fucked it up didn't we?"
There's a pause between shots and you prepare to walk away from JJ forever. Then, something in him sets off and he starts rushing up to you. Startled, you begin to shuffle back.
"What are you doing?" You question, placing a hesitant hand up.
"Showing you how much of an idiot I really am," he replies swiftly as he brings his hands up to cup your face.
He pauses for a second, looking at you with hooded eyes. You lose all capability of breathing, melting into his hands. You glance down at his parted lips, waiting for what's next. JJ smashing his lips to yours hungrily. Without hesitation, you reciprocate the action, combing your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck.
You meant every word. Being with Topper can be great and there's so much history there. Yet, being with JJ is entirely different. It's new. It's organic. It's what keeps you awake at night in the best way. You imagine exploring every inch of his body and never letting go.
JJ breaks from you, pressing his lips to your forehead as his eyes fall shut. "I'm so sorry, Baby, for everything!" He whispers against your cheek before planting a kiss there.
"Me too," you reply.
He pulls back, meeting your gaze. "I don't think you're a slut."
You laugh, "I sure hope not!"
"You're too good for me," he shakes his head as he still wonders if this is all in his imagination.
"Quite the opposite actually," you debate.
"No, don't say that." He shakes his head frantically, hating it when you speak badly about yourself. "You're everything to me!"
You place your hands over his on your cheek and plant a kiss on his palm, making JJ totally simp for you.
"Do you... would you maybe wanna have a little hot tub night?" The boy asks nervously, still kinda unsure of himself when it comes to you.
"I'd love that," you smile, wanting to spend every moment with him from this day forever.
_____________________________
Settling in the hot tub, JJ tugs at the rim of your panties, pulling you to sit across his lap. You drape your arms on his shoulders, resting your forehead against his.
"Are you warm enough?" He whispers, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek.
Hum as your eyes falls shut, pondering the closeness.
"You're so soft and warm. You're like a human Pillow Pet," he comments with a slight snicker.
"Excuse me?" You lift your head to look at him.
"Minus the furry part," he elaborates.
"You're such a goof." You laugh, placing your palm against his head and pushing it away playfully.
"Only for you, Baby," JJ grins.
You place a quick peck on his lips before shifting to move off of his lap.
JJ pouts, letting out a minor whine. "Uh uh, don't leave."
"I'm just grabbing my drink," you giggle at his childlike expression. As you take a sip from your beer, you can feel JJ watching you. You glance over your shoulder and sure enough, his eyes remain locked on your ass. "You're starring," you smirk.
"You bet your amazing ass I am," he mumbles, reaching across the water and grabbing your ass, giving it a squeeze.
"JJ!" You gasp, swatting his hand away.
He tilts his head back, exposing his sharp jaw as he wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you back to him. "Couldn't help myself! It was practically begging for a squeeze."
"Right..." You nod, straddling his lap.
As an act of retaliation, you press your palm to the center of his boxers, making the boy jolt lightly from surprise.
"Holy shit," he swallows hard.
"Couldn't help myself, it was practically begging for it," you smirk, repeating his words.
"You're too good to be true," he whispers, bringing his lips closer to yours.
"Dido," you grin, leaning in to kiss him.
_____________________
After pondering the bliss of you and JJ finally being reunited in the hot tub, you two make dinner together in the Chateau's kitchen. You two move in sync as you prepare the oh-so-difficult meal of pizza rolls. You share a place of them while cuddling watching Goonies. During it, JJ comes up with the idea that you two should be Andy and Brand for Halloween. It makes you smile and all warm inside to hear him making plans for two months from now. It makes you fully realize how much JJ sees a future with you. Somewhere before Goonies was over, you fell asleep in JJ's lap while he was playing with your hair. The last few days have worn on you emotionally, mentally, and physically.
The Pogues came home and when they saw you and JJ on the couch, especially you, they quietly stayed outside. Except, John B lingered, smiling at the sight of his friend doting on you. He's never seen JJ be so gentle and patient in his life.
“You’re different with her," John B whispers not to wake you.
JJ glances up from observing you look at his friend with a satisfied smirk. “She makes me want to be better." His fingers comb through your Y/H/C locks, utterly content.
“I think she’s really good for you,” John B nods in agreement.
“She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I want to change, to be worthy of being with her," JJ confesses quietly as he returns his focus to you.
"You two deserve each other," John B assures his friend.
"You think?" JJ wonders, still unsure of his place in your life.
John B snickers lightly. "I mean, she did leap across a table in front of all her friends and slap a girl to defend you."
"Yeah she did, didn't she? Pretty badass," JJ chuckles, still amazed that you did that.
"She loves you man," John B concludes with a shrug.
"Really?" JJ narrows his eyes with curiosity at his friend.
"Well, it's obvious isn't it?" John B laughs breathlessly with a crooked grin.
"I thought it was all in my head," JJ confesses with a childish fall of his lips like he just learned some overwhelming news.
"It's not," his friend shakes his head, happy to see his friend finally have some hope. "She looks at you the same way you look at her."
JJ's brows scrunch together and he looks up at John B. "When you and Sarah said it to each other, how did you know it was the right time?"
"You'll know. You'll feel it," he describes confidently.
"What if I feel it now?" JJ asks softly, glancing down at you.
"Then say it. Say it whenever you can, as often as you can," John B advises before stepping away quietly to give you two time.
JJ sits with your head cradled in his lap. He's not eager to join his friends around the fire outside. He's content with you here with him, whether you're asleep or not. You're enough for him. You're everything to him.
JJ leans down, planting a kiss to your temple, then gliding his lips down to your ear. "I love you, Y/N," he whispers while you sleep.
__________________________________________________
Masterlist
Tags: @starkeythinker @bethii1 @thegunnerkelly@cc13723things@hockeybabe87 @jolomez
#topper outer banks#topper imagine#topper obx#topper#jj maybank imagines#jj mayback x reader#jj maybank fluff#jj maybank fic#jj#outer banks#obx fanfiction#obx jj#rafe obx#obx#sarah cameron#kiara#pope#john b routledge
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The strangest gal I ever had
never happy ‘less she’s mad.
Oh, I got a woman mean as she can be,
sometimes I think she’s almost mean as me.
—“Mean Woman Blues,” Elvis Presley (1957)
It Keeps Right On a-Hurtin’
#16 - Crimson Caravan
Collaborative Issue!
Guest Artist: Esseress
Archive Links
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Read IKROAH on Archive of Our Own
Notes / Original Pencils / Transcript:
Notes:
Girls’ night! Girls’ night!
I want this issue to speak for itself so I’m going to cut right to gratuitously thanking our latest guest artist, Esseress, who did a completely phenomenal on these five pages. We’ve been working on it for a long time and I’m over the moon to finally bring it to you now on this blog. I love writing this comic, and I loved doing the lettering and composition for it, but my goodness do I love Esse’s art. It was a real privilege to have that art as part of It Keeps Right On a-Hurtin’, especially since the artist was such an immaculately pleasant collaborator. If you’re reading this, thank you again for such a fun project (and talking about Naruto with me lol).
Original Pencils (click for full size):
This issue was one of my most fun composition challenges yet because something that you want to avoid in comics as much as possible, I think, is talking heads. You want to avoid shots that are static, overly repetitive, and uninteresting. Now the challenge is, how do you do that when your whole comic takes place in a small storeroom and is nothing but a conversation between two characters?
Playing with angles and expressions, and using repetition intentionally with the percussive referent of Agnes cutting into the floorboards, made for some really suspenseful page layouts that complemented the script in a major way. I’m especially proud of the third page, with its quick cutaway to the exterior of the office and the cutting continuing beneath Agnes’ dialogue. Also, did you notice that you only ever see Agnes’ left side this issue? You never get to look her in the eye this issue, and given how cagey she’s acting, that evasiveness was an intentional compositional choice. It was satisfying to pull off, but hear me, it took a lot of planning in the thumbnail stage to pull off well.
The other fun challenge of this issue was lighting. When you’re in a closet a night and don’t want to be seen, how do you see? The delightful answer was to have Agnes actually use that damn flashlight she wears on her shoulder; attentive readers will notice that this is the second time she’s used it in the comic, with the first time being back in Boulder City at the end of Volume 1. Hmm…guys, I wonder if it’s a bad omen that she only seems to turn it on when she’s about to commit or assist in a murder…
Speaking of lighting! One last fun hiccup about this issue was the final page. The script I wrote called for it to transition from night to morning between the first and second panels, but in a case of unforeseen and magnitudinous pedanticism, it was while coordinating the lighting on that page with Esse that I looked up the actual time of sunrise in the Mojave Desert for the time of year this issue takes place, which is November 5th if you’re curious. Turns out the sun shouldn’t be rising until after 7:00 AM, which hardly makes McLafferty the exceptionally early riser her planner says she is. That’s not to say it’s actually 7:00 AM in the comic…go ahead and play the CinemaSins ding for the wrong sunrise time, or whatever. And it’s not like any of you would have known or cared if I didn’t say anything! It was just too weird of a writing quirk to not bring up. The lesson, folks, is to always remember your temporality when writing. It’ll help you sleep a lot easier.
Transcript:
EXT. CRIMSON CARAVAN, night. The lights are out and everyone in the caravan compound have retired to their barracks for the night. From inside one of the compound buildings comes a soft sound.
SFX: SKRITCH SKRITCH…
INT. CRIMSON CARAVAN OFFICE. AGNES SANDS is bent over on the floor of a storeroom, carving into the wooden floor with her bootknife. ROSE OF SHARON CASSIDY leans against the door behind her.
SFX: SKRITCH SKRITCH…
AGNES: So…have you ever killed anyone before?
AGNES continues cutting into the floor without looking at CASS as she speaks.
SFX: SKRITCH SKRITCH, SKRITCH SKRITCH, SKRITCH SKRITCH…
AGNES: And I don’t mean a raider or fiend or something, nothing in self-defense. I mean in cold blood.
CASS: You mean like you killed those Khans?
(NOTE: *IKROAH #14—Lou.)
CASS: Hmmm…no, I guess I haven’t. When it comes to bloody vengeance just for myself…
CASS: …be gentle, it’s my first time.
AGNES doesn’t react to CASS’ joke. CASS becomes equally serious.
CASS: …I’d imagine this ain’t your first rodeo, the way you asked.
SFX: SKRITCH SKRITCH, SKRITCH SKRITCH, SKRITCH SKRITCH, SKRITCH SKRITCH…
CASS: I mean…this Benny guy, in Vegas. When we catch him, which notch on your blood-spattered bedpost is he?
AGNES stops cutting into the floor, raising her knife. CASS’s expression tightens with concern. The silence is uncomfortable.
AGNES: Second.
CASS: Oh, thank God.
AGNES: What?
CASS: No offense, but the way you got all serious, I worried for a second you might be some kind of serial killer nutjob.
AGNES: No, no, I’m sorry. I was just…thinking. I really know how to meet the wrong men, apparently.
CASS (smiling): Dead men, right?
AGNES frowns. Her knife plunges back into the wooden floor.
SFX: SKRITCH, SKRITCH, SKRITCH SKRITCH…
CASS: Wanna talk about it?
SFX: SKRITCH SKRITCH…
CASS: Not like we have anything else to do.
SFX: SKRITCH SKRITCH…
AGNES: I really don’t.
CASS: Fine. That said, though, I did imagine this whole revenge thing being a bit more…exciting. Can’t say I like being stuck in a closet.
AGNES (smirking): You get used to it.
CASS: Why, though? You picked the lock to her fucking office like a cheap office toy. Why not break into her barracks and we shoot the bitch now?
AGNES: First, because that’s a great way to get us both killed.
AGNES keeps cutting as she speaks, deeper and deeper into the floor.
AGNES: Second, you want her to know it was you, so we have to get her awake and alone.
SFX: SKRITCH SKRITCH, SKRITCH SKRITCH, SKRITCH SKRITCH…
AGNES: Third, her planner on her desk confirmed what I already suspected—that she’s an early riser—so we’ll see her sooner rather than later, while the rest of the company is still asleep.
SFX: SKRITCH SKRITCH, SKRITCH SKRITCH…
AGNES: Fourth, we want to send a message to everyone else. So it has to be at least a little spectacular.
SFX: SKRITCH SKRITCH, SKRITCH SKRITCH...
CASS: Oh…you’ve really thought this through.
SFX: SKRIT-
AGNES stops cutting. She slowly lifts her knife out of the floor.
AGNES: Yeah.
CASS: Where’d a medic get so good at murder?
AGNES rises from bending over the floor to a kneeling position, turning back towards CASS and frowning.
CASS: Sorry. You probably don’t want to talk about that, either.
AGNES: Maybe another time. For now…
AGNES leans back, kneeling over an intricate cross-hatch, about three feet in radius, of deep cuts and gouges into the floorboards in front of her.
AGNES: …just trust me.
EXT. CRIMSON CARAVAN. Night turns to early morning, and ALICE McLAFFERTY, the boss of the caravan, walks up the steps of her office and enters.
AGNES (from inside, whispering): Alright. Now. Quickly.
From inside her office, a door is kicked open.
SFX: DTHUMP
ALICE: What the hell, who are you—!?
CASS: Rose of Sharon goddamn Cassidy, of Cassidy fucking Caravans, you bitch!
ALICE: No, you’re—
SFX: KABLAM
The sound of a shotgun going off in the middle of the compound wakes up the whole caravan. Crows scatter from the courtyard while guards start rushing towards the office door.
AGNES: Alright, now let’s go! Shoot the floor here where I—
SFX: KABLAM
The guards close in on the office while wooden shrapnel falls from a new hole in the floorboards of the office, and AGNES and CASS drop through to the ground outside, and crawl away from the caravan guards under the hut just as they reach the McLAFFERTY’s front door.
#fallout#fallout new vegas#courier six#rose of sharon cassidy#alice mclafferty#crimson caravan#volume 02#16#ikroah archive
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Falling for You
Formerly Idiots
Part IV: See You Around
Poe Dameron x f!Reader
AN: Here is my first and favorite series, back with a new title and a few adjustments to make it more reader-friendly.
Warnings: Language for now. 18+ Only.
Tag Requests: @capbrie @jitterbugs927 @1950schick @saays-bitch @wasicskosgirl @brandyllyn
Words: 1335
Part I II III
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
You sighed and kicked your feet back and forth, perched on the edge of your hospital bed while the doctor ran you through a final check.
“Okay, follow my finger,” she said, moving it slowly back and forth in front of your face. Your eyes felt a little like they might fall out of your head, but you weren’t going to tell her that. She gave a satisfied smile and stepped back. “Everything looks good. Just take it easy for the next couple of days and make sure you let me know if anything changes.”
You smiled gratefully and slid off the bed as she walked away. Finding your bearings, you slowly made your way back to your quarters, counting the steps until you could lie back down and rest.
A wave of relief swept through you when you reached your door, followed by the sinking realization that you had no clue where your scan key had wandered off to in the midst of last night’s events.
“Just the woman I was looking for.”
Your head jerked up at the sound of Poe’s voice and a groan escaped you as a wave of pain roared through your skull. Vision black around the edges, you shot a hand out to brace yourself against the wall.
“Ohhhhh, too fast,” you whimpered, your stomach twisting nauseously.
“Shit!” You felt Poe’s arm reach around your waist, holding you up against the firm plane of his chest. “Sweetheart, are you okay?” Even unable to see his face, the evident concern lacing his deep voice made your stomach flip. A short beep and a hiss indicated that somehow Poe had gotten your door open and you kept your eyes closed as you let him help you inside. Once you felt the soft mattress behind your knees you sank down, waiting for the fuzz to clear.
Breathing deeply, you raised your gaze to Poe, noticing the worry on his face. “Hey, I’m sorry about that,” you murmured, afraid that speaking too loud would send you reeling again. You smiled wryly. “I guess I’m not quite a hundred percent yet.”
Poe smiled softly and ran a thumb over your cheekbone. “Sweetheart, you don’t need to apologize. I’m just glad you’re okay.”
You sat quietly for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of his skin against yours, the intimacy of the gesture making your heart skip. As you gazed at him, realization dawned on you.
“Hey, why did you have my key?”
Poe smiled sheepishly and sat next to you on the small bunk. “I grabbed it last night before I left the medbay. I . . . uh . . .,” he trailed off and ran a hand over his face. You waited expectantly for him to finish, stealing a moment to admire his profile. Dark curls falling down across his forehead, long lashes framing those deep brown eyes that made you a little weak in the knees, the curve of his nose and the strong line of his jaw. Even coming off a concussion you could unequivocally state that Poe Dameron was the sexiest, most beautiful man you’d ever seen.
“I took your key last night because I wanted to surprise you. I had it all planned out, I would help you back to your room, and then I could take care of you while you rested . . .there were supposed to be flowers . . .” Poe shrugged and looked at you, disappointment written across his face. “I got hung up in a strategy meeting for our next mission and by the time I got here, you were here, and I nearly made you pass out again, and I’m-”
“–You were there?” Your eyes narrowed slightly as you tried to arrange the events of last night into some semblance of a memory. Bits and pieces swam to the surface, but you had no recollection of Poe in the disjointed mess. “I can’t remember anything at all about last night,” you confessed, “I remember looking at your instrument panel and then I woke up this morning in the medbay.” A horrifying thought washed over you.
“Did I say something stupid? Those drugs were pretty good. . . oh, Maker, what did I do?”
The low light of your room made Poe’s eyes glitter, twin amber pools spreading warmth across your skin, making you melt under his stare.
“You don’t remember anything?”
Disappointment coated Poe’s words. He stood and anxiously crossed the span of your small room, before whirling back to you. “Nothing?”
“I’m sorry for whatever I said or did,” you sighed, feeling embarrassed and, all of a sudden, shy. Your crush on Poe had deepened into something you were loath to name, and it terrified you. The easy flirtation between the two of you was one thing; it was fun and sexy and you loved every second of it, but falling in love? Letting him know the deepest parts of your soul, the parts that you hid, the desires and hopes that lay within your heart? You couldn’t make that jump, despite the tiny voice in your head calling you out loud and clear.
You shrugged self-deprecatingly and offered him a crooked grin. “I apologize for whatever I said, Poe. I swear I didn’t mean any of it.”
His heavy eyebrows drew together, gaze lingering intently on your face. “You didn’t mean it?”
Raising your palms, you laughed softly. “I plead temporary insanity due to head trauma.”
Letting out a huff, Poe’s head dropped to his chest. “Temporary insanity. Of course you didn’t mean it.” He shook his head and raised his gaze to yours, his eyes full of an emotion you couldn’t identify.
A kernel of recognition flickered in your brain, pieces of last night’s events slowly slotting into place. Jessika’s voice. The sharp, jolting pain in your skull. Poe’s arms, holding you close. The worry you heard in his voice, the feeling of his hand holding yours, the moment you admitted—
“Poe,” you whispered, “what did I say to you last night?”
His response was cut off as the comm on his wrist beeped shrilly in the quiet of your quarters. Poe blinked at you, eyes scanning your face for a moment, searching for something in your expression. You rose on shaky legs and took a step toward him. “Poe, I–”
“–I have to go,” he muttered, running a hand through his curls. “I guess I’ll see you around?”
You frowned at his words. “See me around? Poe, are you upset with–”
“–Nope, not at all,” he spoke over you again. “We’re good. You said something . . . just . . . look, I get it. You were out of it last night.” He turned toward the door and struck the panel to open the door much harder than necessary, throwing a terse “bye” over his shoulder before walking out.
You stood in the middle of your small room and watched him go, staring after him with a sinking heart as your door closed. You had seriously fucked something up, you just weren’t quite sure what it was. A shimmery, nebulous memory of admitting to Poe that you wanted to kiss him swam around in your brain, but you couldn’t understand his reaction to your words. He left mad, of that you were certain.
Maybe you’d misread everything? The signals, the flirting, the looks shared over the past weeks? Maybe he didn’t feel the same way you did, and your drugged confession had somehow set him off? You knew Poe had a little bit of a temper, but you stupidly blurting out your attraction to him wouldn’t piss him off like that.
Right?
The entire situation made your head ache again. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, lying back down on your bunk to get some rest. You would figure everything out with Poe when you saw him next. It had to be a misunderstanding. You chuckled to yourself as you drew the thin, rough blanket up to your chin.
At least you hadn’t told him you were falling in love with him.
#poe x reader#poe dameron x reader#poe dameron x f!reader#poe dameron x you#star wars fanfiction#my fic
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ace nancy 👀?? from your wips?
I'm gonna preffice this by warning that Billy knows about Asexuality but isn't all that good at explaining it or the nuanced spectrum of being Ace. Also it's the 80's, so please read the following with that in mind. (Clarification comes later in the fic)
So this fic is about Billy being pressganged by Mr Clark into joining the debate team for the State Championships for extra credit. Nancy would rather have a Demodog chomp her left leg off than team up with Billy Hargrove, but things have a way of working out.
A few excerpts:
"Be honest Wheeler, did Harrington make you come even once?"
Nancy blushes.
"Oh, holy shit, he really didn't, did he?"
"I didn't say that--" Nancy insists, loudly.
Billy laughs, "Oh, you didn't have to, Princess. Your face says it all."
"Shut up, Hargrove, just…" Nancy huffs in frustration and goes back to picking at the label a little more aggressively, "Just don't."
"Hey, I'm not judging you, that's all on Harrington. What a dick."
"He's not really. Not anymore. It's just," Her nail finally catches and she rips another strip of wet, sticky label off the bottle and flings it into the grass, "He was my first, you know? I didn't know what to do or how to - to move, and then it was over and I just remember thinking, is that all it is? And then I thought, maybe I'm just not good at it yet, maybe I just need to try again."
She sniffs, reaches up to wipe her face and Billy realises with a sickening lurch in his stomach that Wheeler is crying. He stares at her, frozen solid with uncertainty about what to do.
"And then I thought maybe there's something wrong with him, you know?" Her voice turns bitter. "Like, why couldn't he make it good for me? It's not like I hadn't heard about the other girls talking about Steve before we got together. None of them had any complaints."
"But then I got together with Jonathan and I thought this feeling, this is what I was missing. But-- it didn't fix anything! It didn't fix me."
Billy flounders a little, but ultimately goes with the first thing that pops into his head. "There isn't anything wrong with you, Wheeler."
Nancy cackles a little, sways on the spot, the drink clearly loosening her tongue as well as her body. "Yeah? You gonna show me what I've been missing out on, huh? You wanna take me for a ride in your Camaro, Billy?"
Billy gags a little at the thought, luckily Nancy is too preoccupied by taking another swig from her bottle to notice.
"Oh yeah, that'd end really fucking well."
*****
"You literally did an hour long presentation on Nicola Tesla last semester and spent a quarter of it talking about why he never got married. Don't tell anyone I said this, but you're not exactly stupid. Don't fail me now, Wheeler."
Nancy blinks, looks likes she's thinking real fucking hard. Maybe Billy spoke too soon.
"You ever heard of the term asexual?"
"I think so?" She says, slowly, sounding out the words with deliberate care and turning it into a question. A valley grows between her brows in concentration. "The farmers at the spring festival talked about-- about culling a rooster because it wouldn't, like, mount the hens naturally. I'm sure that's the term he used.
"Jesus Christ." Billy sucks deeply on his cigarette. "It means you don't wanna fuck." Billy frowns, waves his hand dismissively. "Like, you can like it just fine, but you don't think about it like most people do. Something like that."
Nancy straightens of her slouch to lean back and stare at him, jerking a little when she overbalances and steadies herself by grabbing the crook of Billy's elbow. "That doesn't sound normal."
He shrugs a little, takes one last pull from the cigarette before flicking the butt at the ground. "What the fuck is normal, huh?" He grinds the butt into the gravel and turns to look at her, "Let's get you back on your pea, princess. I think you've had enough for one night."
He holds out a hand.
Nancy takes it.
*****
Billy jerks out of doze when someone drops into the seat next to him. He already knows who it's gonna be before he turns to look.
"Morning Wheeler, you get lost on the way to your seat?"
Billy looks around pointedly, his little nook in the back of the bus cut off from the rest of the group by a good five or six rows of empty seats. Far enough to get the point across that Billy isn't there by choice or planning to socialise with any of these nerds.
"No." She says simply.
"You sure? Seems like an awful lot of empty seats for you to be getting all friendly. How's the head?"
Nancy ignores him. Stares at the back of the seat in front of her like it gave her a less than a perfect grade. She purses her lips in that awful way that reminds Billy of a cat's asshole, but she doesn't run off in a huff like he expects.
"You're right." She says, still not looking at him. He watches a muscle tick in her jaw as she grinds her teeth.
He grins.
"You about to have a heart to heart with me, Wheeler? Gotta know whether or not to turn the volume up on these things." He gestures to the headphones pushed partially off his left ear.
She turns her head and regards him cooly for a beat, before a hand shoots out and bats the thing off his head with a quick swipe.
"Watch it!" Billy scrambles to catch them by the cord before they fall to the floor.
Nancy smiles sweetly, "Don't be a dick, Hargrove."
He rolls his eyes.
"Bitch."
"Slut."
"Whore."
She shoots him a pitying look. "Oh Billy, we both know Christie Otto paid you twenty bucks to let her suck your toes."
Billy guffaws, taken completely by surprise and loving it.
Nancy stares, disbelieving.
"You actually did it?"
Billy grins.
Her face does a complicated thing before settling on a confused expression. "But why?"
"Twenty bucks is a hell of a lot of dough for us mere peasants, Princess."
Billy screws his face up, tries not to squirm uncomfortably in his seat at the memory, "Maybe I should have warned her that I'm ticklish. Almost kicked her face in, like, three times."
Nancy coughs. Covers her mouth as she laughs into her hands, like she doesn't want him to see that he made her laugh.
"Not that this isn't nice and all--"
"Oh, I'm sorry, you got somewhere to be, Hargrove?" She snaps, deadpan, but Billy can tell she's nervous from the way she wrings her hands and hides them up her sleeves.
"I just wanted to say thank you--"
"Don't mention it, Wheeler." He says, hastily. Actually he'd prefer it if they never spoke about it ever again.
She glares at the interruption, but presses on. "-- thank you and I wanted to know if I could talk to you. More. About it."
And now it's Billy's turn to stare. Nancy meets his eyes with a determined gaze. Whatever shit Tommy and the rest of the school likes to say about Nancy Wheeler, she's got stones, he'll give her that.
"Alright."
*****
The topic is announced.
Gay marriage.
Berkeley for. Hawkins against.
They win by a landslide.
Of course they do.
The team from Berkeley registers a formal complaint with the panel the second the win is announced. Mr Scott and his Berkeley counterpart are waved up to approach the judges table. Billy wants desperately to leave, but he's forced to sit and watch the Berkeley debate coach protest the unfair conditions his team had been placed under.
"No one in their right mind would chose to side with us on such a topic. No matter how well my kids argue their case."
"I'm afraid I disagree." Mr. Clarke argues. "We debate politically and morally charged topics all the time, Mr. Davenport. The judges judge how well you present your side, not their own personal beliefs.
Billy snorts. Feels unclean after having to stand on that stage and tell the world how unfit people like him are to love. To form families. To be allowed to simply be.
Even if it's all hypothetical, Billy knows those words came damn easily out of his team mates mouths, just as the words of support clearly left a sour after-taste in their opponents.
Nancy turns to look at him.
Fuck it.
Billy gets up and stalks out of the hall. Fuck it all to shit.
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i am thinking abt elita domming the lil praxian trio…
Is this late? yes. Is it done and SUPER horny? yes.
@queenofmeatballs Here it fucking is, my bitch in crime for this bullshit.
“She’s SO pretty when she sleeps!”
“I know, we ALL know! Now quit FUCKING peeking!”
Red grinned as Scar tried to pull him away. Ever since the incident last week, Red was no longer allowed to watch over Lady Elita by himself anymore. So, all three of them were keeping watch over her. Even now, red kept peeking, opening the door a bit more every time. Scar kept pulling him back, but it was like pulling a mutt away from meat. Red groaned, getting a bit tired of how much of a goddamn prude Scar was being.
“You’re just mad because unlike you two, I have a bit of a shot! I’m the cute one!”
“One, you’re stupid. Two, I’m the one with scars, I’M the hot one by default. Three, stop opening the door, she needs to sleep!”
Blue butt in this time, scoffing.
“Excuse me, I’m the one who writes her poetry! I’m the suave, romantic one!”
Scar let go of Red for the sake of glaring properly at Blue.
“First of all, no one likes your poetry. Second, she reads it because she’s NICE to us! Only SAINTS deal with you!”
“Excuse you!”
He scoffed, hand over his chest. Scar was about to tell him off further, when he made a realization.
“Wait. Where’s red?”
They both looked inside the room. He was in there, the cheeky bastard! They both dove into the room, recalling they had to be quiet at the last second. Red grinned at them as he stood by her sleeping frame. He kept his voice to nothing but a whisper.
“God look at the CURVES on this fem! She is SOMETHING!”
“We know! We all know! Now get out!”
“I second with Scar, uncouth as he is.”
But Red was a cheeky, bold bastard. So instead of leaving, he placed his hand right on the blanket, where her hip was. Not only that, but he slowly trailed his hand up her frame, nearly losing his shit. The blankets did NOT show it properly, but her body was FINE. They both gawked at him, before losing their shit, yelling at him as quietly as they could.
“Are you serious?!”
“How DARE you?!”
Red stuck his glossa out at them, getting a bit cocky now.
“Because she’s hot, she’s asleep, and you guys are SO jealous!”
“Okay fine, sure, we’re jealous, just STOP! Lady is going to kill us!”
Red thought about it, before he shrugged. The mischief in his smirk showed that he could NOT see reason.
“Why don’t we see just how well put together our lady is, eh boys? Just a little peek?”
Red watched as they tried in vain to stop him. He pulled off the sheets, and as she rolled onto her back, he reached his hand up her thigh, stopping just short of her crotch plating. Scar dashed over and tore his hand away, glaring at his smirking, cocky face.
“Are you SERIOUS?!”
“Tch, don’t be a prude! I wasn’t even going to do it!”
“Were you?! I can’t tell with you, you’re a stupid PERVERT! Now we’re going to get out of here, and we’re going to forget this ever happened!”
Scar nearly threw his hand away, snarling. Suffice to say, Scar was the most protective of the three, and he would NOT tolerate such behavior towards her. He knelt down to pick up the blanket, covering her again. Just as he was about to wrap it up, a hand wrapped around his wrist.
“What are you three doing?”
Those sharp, blue optics focused onto his own, and Scar never felt like running like this before. He swallowed.
“M-my Lady! I assure you this is all just one big misunderstanding! I’m so sorry, we’ll leave and-”
“Don’t think you two are safe either.”
Red and Blue froze, being caught trying to sneak off and leave Scar in the dust. Bastards. Scar gave an apologetic smile, nerves on FIRE. While he was giddy that she was touching him, he hated the fact that it was in a way that made him look so awful. Unlike Red, he was NOT a pervert. Elita pushed the blanket off of her, and let go of Scar’s hand, choosing instead to fold her arms across her chest.
“Let me take a guess. You guys got...curious. You boys just couldn’t help yourselves, could you?”
“M-my Lady, I ASSURE you, this isn’t what it looks like! I’d do no such thing! It was Red!”
“W-you snitch!”
Elita’s eyes fell right onto him, and she made the motion for him to come to her. While Red was a pervert, he was just as shy as the other two were, honestly and truly. He gulped as he walked over to her, hands fumbling. She held onto his face, squishing his cheeks as if he was a naughty sparkling.
"Answer me honestly. I'm MUCH more forgiving if you're not lying to me."
Red gave an uncomfortable chuckle, and only really started to find his voice when her hand moved from his face, to his throat. She was as big and scary, as much as she was big and beautiful.
"I'm sorry! I was just messing around! And I came in and then I took away the sheets and...You’re just so pretty.”
It was exactly as she thought. These three were such perverts, they came into her room when she was just trying to recharge. That was why she felt so warm. She thought about just throwing them out, scolding them for doing so lewd, but...well. She had been so tense as of late. So pent up with anger and frustration and worry. They were HER boys anyway, she was pretty sure they wouldn’t mind helping her ease her woes.
“I see. I don’t know why you boys haven’t said something sooner. You really shouldn’t be so afraid of me. I don’t bite. Much.”
That was when she pulled him towards her, and pressed his lips against hers. They both sat there, cheeks ablaze as they stared in disbelief. She wasn’t just kissing him, she was KISSING him. Kissing him a way that she SHOULD be kissing Optimus. But she wasn’t. She was kissing RED like that. Fully, with greed, as they could plainly see when she pulled away, drool still connecting their mouths. He looked ready to dive in for more, before she stood up, placing a hand on her hip, and pointing at the berth.
“Three of you. Bent over the berth. Now.”
They moved fast, knowing that tone of hers. They laid down over the berth in a neat little row, like the cutest little duckies. Scar only just now, in the middle of them, seemed to notice just how weird this was.
“Does this seem right to you guys?”
Blue shook his helm.
“Does it matter? Elita gave us a command, and I’m not the one to refuse her.”
Scar opened his mouth to express his concerns again, when her hand dug into his aft, lifting him up a bit.
“Ass up. I want easy access to the three of you.”
Elita walked over to blue, clicking open his valve panel. Scar watched as Blue damn near swooned. Elita was ACTUALLY sitting there, touching not only him, but his panels. She hummed curiously as her fingers traced over his valce folks. He buried his hands in his face, muttering praises for her. She scowled, pulling away after a moment, looking unimpressed.
"Hmm...not you."
Scar peered behind him, watching her walk past him, to red. Red's panel was opened, and Scar sat there, watching him grip onto the sheets and bite his bottom lip. It was fairly short lived however, as she seemed just as displeased.
"Not you either. Hmm...okay, let's try you."
That was when Scar felt her right behind him. Her hands placed themselves on his ass, slowly sliding down his thighs, till he felt his valve exposed to the open air. Then he felt her servos carefully rub against his folds. Slowly, carefully. His breath hitched, his face buried into the sheets, and it took everything to keep his legs from buckling.
"Hmm...how's my hands feel?"
"G-good my lady, very-"
He couldn't talk more than just a mewl as she pushed two fingers into him. Oh it had been SO long since anyone touched him. Let alone someone so pretty, so big and stunning. She pulled her fingers out after a moment, and he thought he could breathe a sigh of relief. Then he felt something pressed up against him. He was no Wheeljack, but he knew damn well what it was. It was her spike. Long, thick. Not enough to be freakishly big, just enough to make his tanks do flips. He felt her size even further as she laid on top of him, one hand cupping his cheek.
"You. Are going to be SO fun. You're gonna treat me good, won't you?"
She kissed him right on his nose, making him just swoon. So big, so lovely. Primus himself made her. He nodded eagerly, not trying to seem TOO excited about the notion of getting fucked by her, but failing majorly. She held onto his face as she started to move her hips into him, and he swore he was melting like butter on a pan. Not only was she pushing herself inside and outside of him, but she was constantly kissing his cheek, constantly cooing over just how good of a boy he was. And what made it even better? The fact that the other two just stared at them. Silent, yet he could tell they were bubbling with jealousy. He wasn’t a cocky mech, but he prided himself in being the one who loved her the most. And now? They got to see it in full force.
“L-lady Elita?”
“Hmm?”
She kissed him again on his cheek, which, combined with the steady rolling of her hips, only made him feel weaker. How he found his voice was nothing short of a miracle.
“Can...uhm...can you go faster, please? Not that I’m trying to rush you, I don’t dream of it, I just...h-holy shit you’re so pretty.”
That seemed to make her laugh a bit. She patted his cheek.
“I can go faster, so much faster. But I just wanted to get a feel for you. A feel for this nice sweet valve that treats me SO sweetly. I can’t remember the last time I had a valve, let alone one that fit so snugly. But you’re right. It’s about time I start taking care of YOU.”
She slapped her hand over his mouth, and started to move. He knew she was big, knew she was a real strong lady, but he did NOT know just how powerful, till right now. Her hips clanged against him, and combined that with his soaked valve, filled the room with loud, lewd sounds. He wanted to cry out, wanted to beg her for more, but she kept her oh so soft hand around his mouth, forcing his cries to become muffled. And she chuckled. She chuckled so dreamily into his audial, and her voice alone could make him overload.
“Such a cute little con I have. Nice little face, nice little valve. You like my spike? Like it right up inside you? Like how you sit there and take me?”
Scar nodded furiously. He loved EVERYTHING about her, but as she was throbbing inside of him, he was finding even more things to love about her. Including her cruelty. Just when he thought he was going to overload, she stopped, slowly pulling herself out of him. She let go of his mouth, allowing him to freely pant like a dog. She sat back, looking at the hungry, happening valve of his. She stood there, biting at her thumb, and clearly liking what she had done.
“I almost wanted to let you finish, really I did. But, being the commander, I go first. So, let’s get this party started. All of you up, spikes out.”
Red and Blue had no issues turning around to face her, popping open their spike panels. It took Red leaning over to smack his ass to get Scar to stand back up, doing the same. Elita looked over at her selection, curious over which one she wanted. Despite them having so much in common, each spike was different. Red’s had a little more gerth, Scar’s had a slight curve to it, and Blue’s had just the cutest little vibration mod. Yep, she knew just which one.
“Blue, be a dear and lay down for me.”
Blue pointed to himself, as if he wasn’t sure of his name, before she chuckled.
“Yes, you. Lay back for me.”
Blue nearly tripped on his way to scramble to the berth, but the excitement on his face was palpable. He leaned back on her bed, fighting the urge to sniff her pillows. Everything was just so big, so soft here, he could die here and be just fine with it. She crawled into the berth, when Blue suddenly held his hands up, as if to stop her.
“Wait, just one moment!”
They all looked at him in confusion, before they nearly saw that bullshit romance dance in his optics.
“Can. Can I kiss you? Before we go any further? Please? I wanna write a haiku about your lips!”
Even SHE had to roll her optics at that. He was lucky he was cute. She crawled over to him, before holding his little face, and kissed him. It was a slow, sweet kiss that made it look like she sucked the spark out of him. When she pulled away, he was a blushing, lipstick smeared mess. She poked at his nose.
“You gonna be able to hold it together for me?”
“I...y-yes Lovely!”
“Good.”
She made sure he was comfy, before she pressed herself against his front. Don’t ask blue how, but he was suddenly under her, spike rubbing against her oh so warm crotch plating. Red scoffed, knocking against Blue’s helm.
“You look like you’re gonna pass out. What, is sweetspark here too heavy for you?”
“Not in the slightest~”
Truth be told, she was SO heavy compared to him. But he didn’t care in the SLIGHTEST, he could be crushed under her weight all day. Elita chuckled, cupping Red’s chin in order to peck at his lips.
“Don’t be jealous. You’re all going to get a turn.”
As she said that, she opened her valve panel. And they STARED. She had the prettiest valve they had EVER seen. Not only was it huge, not only was it wet, but it was so big and puffy, the pink lips looked akin to a heart. She rubbed at herself, showing them smear her fluids against herself. Combine that with that big, wet spike, it was no wonder why they were head over heels for her. She held onto Blue’s spike, rubbing it against her, before slowly pushing him into her. It was a slow steady moment, but he was acting as if she was fucking his processor out, helm tossed back as he squirmed in place. Red scoffed, completely unimpressed.
“Sweetspark, I’m never one to question your leadership, but HIM? He looks like he’s going to overload any second. Let ME do it!”
Scar leaned over to smack his arm.
“YOU’RE pumping your spike to this, idiot.”
“It’s cuz she's hot? Are we looking at the same thing here?”
She held her hand up to silence them, before motioning for Scar to come forward.
“Come on, back on the spike you.”
Scar carefully crawled back into her lap, and sat back down onto her spike. It felt different at this angle, hitting a whole new cluster of nodes. He had to lean against her a bit to keep his composure, and even then, her grin didn’t help. Scar chuckled nervously, trying to keep his breathing under control.
“I...Is this all okay, Lady Elita? I d-don’t want to overstep any boundaries.”
“You worry Scar, really you do. I’m pretty happy, trust me. It’s...been a while, so I kinda need this. If you boys think you can handle just how much I need.”
Blue, who was practically smothered by her weight, raised a hand to get her attention.
“I can say, personally, that I’m fully willing to accept my fate here.”
“Well then. Let’s get moving, boys.”
Blue moved first, surprisingly enough. He had his vibration mod up and going, and that seemed to be enough to make her grip onto the sheets below. Scar did his best to keep up; riding her spike to match his pace with his thrusts. She was so giving, even as she was taking from them. She kept gifting them with plenty of fluids, as well as a great many kisses, leaving their faces covered in pink lipstick smears. She seemed to just now notice Red, who was standing to the side, and touching himself to the scene.
“Oh, I had no idea I was so mean. Come here, Red.”
He was about to ask just how she was going to do anything for him, when her lips met the head of his spike. She chuckled around him, holding his gerth in her hand, stroking him as her lips adorned him in kisses. She moaned around him, clearly feeling satisfied by all the stimulation she was being given. Blue was swooning underneath her, despite the fact that his hips already ached.
“Lovely’s moans are SO pretty~”
“For once, we can agree on something, Blue.”
Red chuckled. Red wasn’t fairing much better, finding himself wiping the drool off of his face. She was enjoying herself FAR more than he thought she would be.
“Lady Elita...how long HAS it been for you?”
She kept pumping the spike in her hand, kept moving with the thrusts. She was enjoying herself, but her face looked so solemn.
“Optimus and I...haven’t been close enough for that in a long time. Mega cycles, and that’s being generous. He focused a lot more on the war, rather than me. Which I understand, but-”
“Hey, Scar, quit making pretty optics here all sad! WE’RE handling it!”
Scar thought about it. He was right. Optimus didn’t deserve the chance to satisfy her. While he was unsure if he himself deserved it, he knew one thing; SHE deserved the chance to be satisfied, totally and completely. Scar nodded, leaning down to kiss at her forehelm.
“I hate to say this, but he’s right. Please, let us take care of you, my Lady.”
While she was used to being the one to lead, this was something that demanded their full attention. As soon as Red shoved his spike into her mouth, they finally pulled their own weight. Blue started to buck his hips into her, burying his vibrating spike as deep into her spike as he could, and Scar riding the hell out of her spike, even leaning down to leave kisses right between her chest plating. Red chuckled as Elita eagerly slurped at his spike, drool running down her perfect pink lips. While his spike was rough against her mouth, his hand was gentle with her as he pushed it back and forth.
“Holy SHIT you’re SO good at this, Sweetspark. You feel good, you look SO pretty. How a mech that dumb couldn’t be taking care of you? He’s stupid.”
“A r-real fool.”
Blue added, nearly shaking as he fought back the urge to overload. Scar, being the sort of leader between the three, saw that Blue was struggling too hard to keep it together, and decided to speed things up, lest his Lady be disappointed in them. His kisses towards her turned into hungry, plentiful nibbles, and he leaned a hand down to rub her cherry node in fast, small circles. THAT got her going, and they all got the pleasure of seeing her shake, of seeing her face erupt in a deep, intense blush. Elita was a strong, sexy woman, who demanded so little. Making her feel good was the least they could do to show her appreciation. Scar nodded, agreeing with Blue.
“A mech who can’t make you feel good? Shame. You WANT to feel good, we can see that, and we want to make you feel SO good. We want to watch you overload, we want to see you be happy.”
He was going to continue, when Red took a firm hold of her helm, and overloaded right into her mouth. Scar was about to scold him for being so rude, when he saw just how much she liked it, slurping up the fluids that steadily dribbled from his spike. She would’ve stayed there, had she not suddenly tossed her helm back, and overloaded. The cry she let out. The way she gripped onto the sheets underneath her. The way her spike pumped fluid into Scar and tightened around Blue. Suffice to say, the other two didn’t stand a chance, and promptly overloaded right after her. They all sat there, full of condensation and overload, before Elita started to laugh, covering her lips as she did so.
“I can’t believe you guys!”
They looked at each other, confused, before she fanned at her face, near to tears.
“You guys really just did all of that...to make me happy. It’s so sweet of the three of you.”
Her optics were...something. To Scar, they were prettier than any star out there. To Scar, her smile was brighter than the sun. To Scar, she was the most incredible fem he had EVER met. He leaned down to press his forehead against hers, as if it was just the both of them, and no one else.
“We would do ANYTHING to make you happy, Lady Elita. We can do this as often as you need it of us.”
“Like...now, maybe?”
Oh the way her servo lightly tapped against his lips. He was about to agree, when Blue held his hand up, rather weakly.
“Can we uh, take a small breather? Everything is very...sore.”
“Fucking weak, move over Blue!”
“W-I just need a break, get off!”
Blue and Red started to bicker and fight as Red crawled into the berth, and watching them fight seemed to make her chuckle. Elita was looking down at them fighting, and Scar was happy she wasn’t looking at him. Seeing eyes of lust was one thing.
But eyes of true, honest love? He knew that was something best kept to himself.
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Hello Internet! So I wrote a stylized transcript of events from @moonbowphobia and @mcyt-apocalypse-au‘s wedding the other day.
I apologize from the deepest place in my heart if I messed up anyone’s pronouns.
I hope you enjoy my little rendition of events.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Moon was sat in their dressing room; deep blue and black ball gown splayed over the loveseat while their sister Chandelier put the last finishing touches to their hair; Vi and Rib playing cards on the floor; Vibes trying to keep the vodka away from Aria; the chaos was comforting, but Moon was nervous. It was their wedding day. They would be marrying the love of their life, Abi.
“Help! I’m scared!”
“Take a deep breath.” Moon did as Vibes instructed, taking a deep breath in, and letting it out slowly. “You love Abi. She loves you. You’re going to be fine.”
“Am I though? Rib help!”
“Am I not help enough?” Vibes joked.
“No, of course you’re helping. I just nee-“
Vi slaps them across the face. “YOU LOVE HER BITCH JUST KISS HER CMON!”
Chandelier whips around to push Vi back to the floor. “Play your card game. That’s not helping, nor how weddings work.”
Moon laughs at their sister’s antics. At least someone is calm. “I got one of Lu’s cupcakes!” Vibes calls, skidding back into the room. When did they leave? “Here.”
“Thank you,” Moon reaches for the treat. Biting into it and eating with vigor.
“Are you feeling better?”
“Yes.” Moon polishes off the cupcake. “Oh go! Two minutes.”
“Bitch calm down!” Aria says, shaking her best friend by the shoulders.
“Ah yes. The drunk friend always calms people down.” Vibes let the sarcasm seep into their voice, trading a look with Chandelier.
Chandelier goes about shooing Aria and Vi out the door; trusting that Vibes will follow and keep them in line. She brushes the crumbs off of her sibling’s jet black skirt and fixes their headpiece one final time. “You will be fine Moon. Everything will go well. You don’t have to worry about a thing. Let me do that.”
“Okay. Thank you Lier.”
“Anytime.” Lier beckons Rib to follow them out to the altar. Rib grabs the pillow and rings and skips after them, careful not to step on Moon’s train.
Vibes is already at the podium. Moon and Rib set themselves off to the left side. Lier fixes their midnight blue embellished train as they take in the crowd.
Fenn is in the corner playing something on her switch and Vi is on the opposite side doing the same. Ozzie is sitting with the rest of their siblings, trying to waggle them into compliance; their every expression screaming ‘this is fine’ in a deadpan tone.
“Please help,” Moon whispers to the ether.
“It’s okay.” Lier squeezes their shoulder before tucking one of Rib’s stray hairs away and going to calm the masses.
“I’m sure Abi is just as worried at you are,” Vibes consoles.
Aria runs from behind the bar with a glass. “Drink this vodka mix and calm down.”
“Thank you,” Moon gushes, taking the glass from their best friend’s hands. Only for it to be swiped away when Lier comes to collect Aria and get her in place, so the wedding can start. Moon is thankful for their sibling, but they really wanted that drink.
They see Vi run out and down the drink in Lier’s hand before she can stop her. Lier sat Aria down and started to whisper lecture to her niece. Or what looked like whisper lecturing.
Lightly slapping Lynn’s hand away from the cupcakes, Lier goes to put the glass away. Moon watches Lynn sprint to the other dressing room. Looks like Abi needed a snack as well.
Lier pokes her head into Abi’s room. She comes out and locks eye with Moon, giving them a little thumbs up. Moon takes a deep breath, looks at Rib and zeir comforting smile. They give Lier a nod. She cues Star to start playing the wedding march.
Des comes out first, throwing roses Lier procured on the floor. She goes to sit next to Aria in the front row. “God fuck, why am I getting nervous,” Aria whispered to the older girl.
Then comes Tabz in all her glory. She nods to Moon and goes to stand on Abi’s side of the altar.
The first section of the song ends. There are a few seconds of silence before the piano resumes and Abi turns the corner. She walks down the aisle gracefully, her white off-the-shoulder cape flapping gently behind her. Moon can’t keep the smile off of their face.
Neither can Abi. She’s smiling wildly; the only thing keeping her from tripping on her face is the sturdy arm of her father right beside her. Sooty lets go of her hand as she takes her place next to Tabz.
Moon slowly nudges the mask off of their face; showing their visage to Abi, but hiding it from the audience. They smile at each other and Vibes starts to speak.
“Today, we are here to unite Moon and Abi together.”
Moon can see Aria trying not to cry out of their peripheral vision. They hear someone cracking open a can, of course, was it Corn?
“Moon,” Vibes asks. “Do you promise to never give Abi up, never let her down, never run around, and desert her?”
“I promise.”
“Abi. Do you promise to never make Moon cry. Never say goodbye, never tell a lie and hurt them?”
“I do.”
“Moon, do you take Abi to be the ‘yee’ to your ‘haw’?”
“I take Abi to be the ‘yee’ to my ‘haw’.”
"Abi, do you take Moon to be the kazoo noise to your Mono?"
“I do take Moon to be the kazoo noise to my Mono.”
“Then with the blessing of this church, I now pronounce you partners for life. May I have the rings?”
Rib scurries to present the golden pillow to Vibes. “Yes,” ze says, tears in the corners of zeir eyes.
Abi grins and reaches of Moon’s hands, slipping the ring of their finger. Moon does the same for Abi.
"May these rings be a sign of love and faithfulness in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Head, shoulders, knees and toes. Turn up your nose, strike that pose. Hey Macarena. Y'all may now kiss."
Moon cups Abi’s face, both have tears in their eyes. Moon brings Abi in for a kiss, thankful that the mask is still there keeping this moment private for the prying eyes of the audience.
Star starts to play Megalovania as the attendants applaud to newlywed couple. The song continues as everyone files out of the ceremony room to the reception hall. Purple light flooded the room, the guest sat in round tables of eight according to the seating chart. String lights hanging from the rafters to look like stars in the night sky.
Unnie was ferrying food from the kitchen to the guests. Aria was handing out drinks to whoever came up for one. She was about to give Rib one, but with one glare from Lier, Rib got an apple juice.
The room was filled with sounds as everyone ate and got drunk. Aria pulled Moon to the dance floor after handing out vodka shots to Vi and Corn. Abi stumbles out onto the dance floor as well, laughing and having a good time.
Vibes comes over to Lier and offers her a glass of champagne. They clink their glasses together. It was a good show they pulled off.
“So how are you doing these last few days, buddy?” Corn gave Rib her shot glass, sticking her tongue out at Lier who was glaring over the rim of her drink.
“Congrats on your wedding! I hope your marriage lasts for three hours!” Vi yells at her parents, leaning heavily on her fiancée’s arm on her way to get more drinks with.
“Fuck off Vi!” Abi screams back, content to keep dancing with Moon.
Lynn backs into a corner, drinking her apple juice and watching the scene in amusement. She is the first to the tower of cupcakes. “Cake!”
“Cake!” Aria screams.
Star agrees with the drunk one, “Cake time!”
“Cake!” Vi barrels passed everyone, not caring who she knocked over. “Sugar rush Violet activating!”
Corn silently takes half of the cupcakes with her. Batting Vibes’ hands away when they try to stop her. Lier helps Unnie dish out an equal number of cupcakes to everyone else.
Once everyone was satiated, Rib and Lier broke into the pile of pizza boxes. Pizza is a good substitute for cake; what are you talking about?
Then it was time for gifts. Rib gave zer parents a switchblade, embellished with a motif of leaves and wooden paneling, and a beautiful floral metal necklace. Lier gave them a coaster with Moon’s mask design on it, and a handmade Technoblade plush toy. Aria gave them a set of moonstone chokers.
The couple loved them so very much. Hugging each of the gift givers in turn, they thanked each one.
Then the two backed away from the crowd to exchange gift with each other away from the audience. They started screaming I love yous to each other shortly thereafter.
Everything was calming down a little, so Vibes started to play Blitz Parody by Technoblade on the piano while Lier sung and botches along with a chord chart and a ukulele. Then Aria played Highway to Hell on the drum set, Vibes singing this time.
Once they were done, Vi grabbed her guitar and started playing The L’Manburg anthem. It became a drunk sing along, with Rib, Abi, and Vi herself joining in. Both Star and Corn joined in for the “Fuck Eret” line.
“I’m gonna cry,” Moon said, watching the scene in front of her.
“Don’t cry love,” Abi consoled, halting her singing.
“What’s wrong?” Vibes asked.
Lier came over with a tissue. “Happy tears?”
“Happy tears.”
“It all started on a day like any other!” Corn yelled in tune.
And they’re off again. Singing an Ode To L’Manburg.
Abi throws the bouquet at them. Vibes manages to catch it. Vi bites their arm in retaliation. Berl drags Vi away kicking and screaming.
“With a heart that she’d taken from me,” Star continues to sing the song in the background with Rib.
“Moony honey, are you okay?”
“This was beautiful.”
“It is! It’s lovely.” The two smile, just looking at the crowd.
Vi raises her shot over her head, standing on a table. “A toast to Moon and Abi, who I bet will divorce by December.”
“A toast to kicking Vi to the curb,” Lier mutters. Having given up on keeping people from hurting themselves, she again clinks glasses with Vibes again.
“Vi you are on a timeout you fucking little shit.” Abi yells.
“I bet they’ll do it by the month after October.”
“Rib!” Corn whacks zer across the back of zeir head.
Vibes goes to distract. “Let’s all have another round!”
“Moon it’s okay. C’mere.” Abi brings her partner in for a hug, before they murder two of their children.
Moon returns the hug as Aria screams in shock. “Guy this fucking wall is talking to me!”
“Aria that’s it. Time to go home. You are to drunk,” Vi says, slurring her words.
“Aria! Go home,” Abi yells. “I love you Moony,” she says quieter.
“I love you too.”
“No! Me staying her with ma best friend Moon!” Aria screams back; to the wall instead of the people. Huh. Maybe she should go home.
“A toast,” Vibes holds up their glass. “A proper one. For Abi and Moon; may they live happily ever after!”
“May they live ever after!” Star cheers.
“Cheers I guess…” Corn says, not sure what’s going on anymore. Too many drunk people.
“Cheers bitches!” Aria says, getting dragged by her legs while Vi yelled at her.
“Go. Home. You. Are. Drunk.”
“Vi, no.” Lier goes to dislodge the two. “Let Aria stay here with me.”
“Aria you want to come with me?” Vibes asks. “I have some ice.”
“She will be fine in my sight.”
Abi stares into Vi’s soul. “Put her down.”
“Okay mom.”
Aria’s feet drop to the floor and she just lays there. “No, I want to stay with Lier.”
“I love ice!” Rib calls from the other end of the room, where ze is standing really close to a vase.
A drunken Moon then starts giving out food from the kitchen people. Unnie decides that they don’t get paid enough to care.
Aria looks to Lier. “But I want ice.”
“Then get up. You can come with me to the ice machine.” The two of them go to where Rib and Vi are munching quietly with Star.
“Y’all can see the walls moving right?” Aria asks again.
“Uh, yeah, sure Aria. They’re doing jumping jacks and everything.” Abi says, grabbing a handful of ice for herself.
“Aria, I think I’m seeing that walls talk too,” Vi said way too loudly for their proximity.
Rib turned back to the vase. “So, ya come here often?” Ze was slurring zeir words all over the place.
“Aria sit down. Rib are you flirting that was vase?” Lier facepalmed.
“Yes Vi! They are talking!”
Lier stands up, leaving them to it. “I’m getting the hose,” she muttered to Vibes on her way out. “If I remember correctly Abi said arson was allowed after the ceremony.”
“These guys are so weak to alcohol, let’s hope they forget that.”
Vi knocks over Rib’s vase while talking to the walls with Aria. “Ooh! Mango!” She them proceeds to eat some.
“NOOOOO!” Rib cries. “My beloved!”
Vibes rushes over to get Vi to cough it up.
“Vi how could you!” Rib shouts.
“Cronch. Tasty.”
Aria picks that moment to start playing the death metal to get some good head banging. Abi tries to hold in her laugh, but can’t. Rib starts sobbing in an ugly drunken fashion, bopped zeir head as well.
“Well at least no one is hurt yet,” Vibes says when Lier returns with the hose.
Star is still sitting to the side, drinking her apple juice quietly now that their’s no songs within her vocal range to sing.
“Let’s do Coke!” Aria suggests.
“No. Aria. No.” Lier stands right in Aria’s face. “I will literally make a PowerPoint on why that’s a bad idea.”
“Yeah! Coke!” Vi cheers, but Aria is already trying to shush her.
“No. No. Coke.”
“Why?” Vi complains.
“You ate my future wife!” Rib yells.
Lier muttered a question to herself. “Is me holding the threat of an informative PowerPoint really enough to stop Aria?”
“It’s okay. I’m good. Sorry Lier. OMG no. No PowerPoint necessary!”
“Smile on nod,” Lier said to herself.
“PowerPoints are scary,” Aria explained.
“No they aren’t,” Abi piped up.
“Do you want her to do coke?”
Abi paused to take in the question. “PowerPoints are terrifying,” she says deadpan.
“Any song requests?” Star asked when the death metal ended.
“Something sad,” Rib said, “because that’s how I feel. I feel betrayed and backstabbed.”
“Could you do ‘Cost of the Crown’ for me?”
“Wait there’s a crown!” Abi jumped up. “I want a crown!”
Abi was very clearly drunk, so Vibes handed over a paper crown before she hurt herself.
“POG!”
“By a sibling no less!” Rib continued to scream.
“Shuddup out prick!”
“Shut up, murderer!”
As this conversation continues, Star starts to play ‘Let it Go’ on the piano. Abi and Vibes are dueling, not half badly, but defiantly in the wrong key.
“Fuck you! You murdered my beloved!”
“I’ll do it again fucker!”
“She ate my wife!”
“Rib and Violet. Calm. Down.” Vibes went to stand between them.
“It’s only a vase, calm down,” Ai adds.
“I WILL NOT CALM!”
“Rib calm down, Moon and I will get you another.”
“It wasn’t just a vase! It was the mother of my future children!”
“I’ll fix her if you calm down,” Abi reasoned.
“Okay. I’m calm. Fix her please.”
“I’ll fix her tomorrow, don’t you worry kiddo,” Abi soothed.
“Don’t worry, she’s not gone yet,” Vibes said. “Just sleep for now Rib, she’ll be okay.”
“She’ll be even shinier than the day you met her kiddo, don’t you worry!”
Lier came over with a glass of ice. “Have some water before you dose off on us.”
“Yay!” ze said sleepily. “Ice.”
Lier starts putting the pieces into a large Ziplock bag.
“Are y’all gonna do some necromancy?! No!” Vi them process to charge at Lier, pushing her over and breaking the pieces into even smaller ones.
“Vi,” Lier falls back into a deathly calm tone. “We just got Rib is calm down.” She gets up and into Vi’s space. “I will slowly dismember you part by part if you do not shut up this moment”
“No!”
“Ok Vi. You’re right. I’m not going to hurt you. But please stop breaking the vase.”
Rib had started worry again. Abi started shushing her child again. “Don’t worry, Rib vasey is completely fine.”
“And now I will sing N/A my MegaPvP!” Vibes said. For the first time, Lier wondered if Vibes was truly sober.
Rib places an orange peel on Abi’s shoulder. “Here you go mother.”
“Huh?”
“Okay! Pack it up family! Time to go home!”
“But my vase!”
“Will get super glued together tomorrow.”
Lier finds where Ozzie has secluded themselves, and forces them to help get everyone into cars and home safely. Thank goodness she had had the foresight to book a couple vans and drivers.
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BnHA Chapter 252: Suplex of Feels
Previously on BnHA: Deku, Kacchan, and Shouto visited Todobrook Heights one time, just the one!!, so of course it just so happened to also be the one time that Natsuo got straight up kidnapped by a villain for no reason because THAT’S JUST HOW LIFE GOES. Thankfully for Natsuo, the Terror Trio had kind of a Cinderella thing going on where if they didn’t beat a villain before Endeavor by midnight, their character development would turn back into a pumpkin, and I’m not really sure I stuck the landing on that metaphor but anyway! So Shouto used Flashfire to roast the villain alive, Deku used Blackwhip to save some hapless civilians who got caught in the crossfire of everything, and Kacchan used his cool fast explosions which don’t have a new name yet because he’s focused on more important things to rocket over and save Natsuo from becoming roadkill. And then Endeavor gave him and Natsuo a BIG OL’ HUG and my heart went, oh.
Today on BnHA: Horikoshi grabs a handful of raw, squishy feels out of a bucket and just full on slaps me across the face with them. Endeavor has a moment of agonizing, excruciating vulnerability and apologizes to Natsuo for everything -- like, everything -- and says Natsuo doesn’t have to forgive him, and that in fact he doesn’t want him to forgive him, and that he just wants to atone for everything he’s done. And just, I can’t even describe the scene, but it’s just perfect down to the last detail, and exactly what I wanted. And meanwhile Deku, Shouto, and Kacchan stand there watching, and then Kacchan has a fucking epiphany and FINALLY DECIDES ON A HERO NAME!!, and I completely lose my goddamn mind, only to then be brought down to the lowest of lows when he immediately says that he’s not going to reveal it yet because THERE’S SOMEONE ELSE HE HAS TO TELL FIRST. So once I’m done sighing, we cut to later and Endeavor is all “Fuyumi I’m gonna buy a house for you guys so you can all live a happy life with your mom and never see me again,” and yeah. You guys I am in shambles.
hey everyone, whoever is doing Mangastream’s thumbnails every week deserves a raise though
especially since they’re not actually getting paid for it at all lol. their resolve to find the most ridiculous Kacchan expression every week and slap it on their home page is 100% a labor of love. AND IT SHOWS
lol and here I was half-worried the chapter would pick up after all the dust had settled, and we’d miss out on this glorious scene of Kacchan acting like he’s the goddamn wicked witch of the west and the sprinklers just turned on. anyways, I know what I’m thankful for this holiday
HAHAHAHAHA
I’D LIKE TO TAKE A MINUTE AND THANK ALL OF OUR SPONSORS AND OUR GREAT CREW WHO MADE THIS ALL POSSIBLE. SHOUT OUT TO ENDING, YOU’RE THE REAL MVP. BIG “HEY WHAT’S UP” TO TOUYA, WHO STRAIGHT UP DIED JUST SO ENDEAVOR COULD HAVE ANGST AT A CRITICAL MOMENT AND FORCE KACCHAN TO BE THE ONE TO SAVE NATSUO INSTEAD. AND A HUGE FUCKING “YOU THE MAN, BRO” TO THAT MORON SPEEDING BLINDLY IN THE TAXI CAB WHILE ON HIS PHONE AND NOT PAYING THE SLIGHTEST BIT OF ATTENTION TO THE ROAD IN FRONT OF HIM! WITHOUT YOUR RECKLESS DISREGARD FOR YOUR OWN SAFETY AND THAT OF OTHERS, THIS NEVER COULD HAVE HAPPENED. OH GOD, THEY’RE PLAYING THE MUSIC NOW, I GOTTA HURRY UP... AH... I’M SO GRATEFUL TO ALL MIGHT, GIVER OF SO MANY LEGENDARY HERO HUGS, AND TO SLIDIN’ GO, YES REALLY SLIDIN’ GO, WHO ESTABLISHED THIS GAG BACK IN CHAPTER 219. YOU BOTH WALKED SO ENDEAVOR COULD RUN. AND LAST BUT CERTAINLY NOT LEAST, TO HORIKOSHI KOUHEI, WHO IS ABSOLUTELY FUCKING DETERMINED TO HAVE EVERY PRO HERO IN THE COUNTRY HUG KACCHAN BEFORE THE SERIES IS OVER. YOUR TIRELESS EFFORTS ARE THE REASON I GET OUT OF BED EVERY MORNING. GOD BLESS YOU ALL AND GOOD NIGHT
anyway
sorry Kacchan this is just your life now. you’re just stuck here. by the way, Endeavor really is just an absolute MOUNTAIN of a man, though?? like, a whole, absolute unit. like remember a few chapters ago when I was joking about how he was eight feet tall? well Natsuo is 5’11” according to the wiki, and you can tell by looking at him that he is a solidly built guy. like, he eats his fucking Wheaties. and Endeavor is still able to FULLY WRAP HIS ARMS AROUND both him and Katsuki together WITH ROOM TO SPARE and just. ?????? WHAT EVEN IS THIS MAN good grief
anyway poor Natsu looks close to passing out though so maybe you fucking should let them go Endeav
SDLFKJSDLFKH
1) seriously though look at how big his hands are jesus christ is he even a human!?!?
and 2)!! the amount of sheer detail which was put into this panel, with the facial expressions and the shading and all, only for Katsuki to open his big fucking mouth with ABSOLUTELY NO REGARD! like, this could have been one of the most heartrending panels in the entire series. but instead it’s forever immortalized with Bakugou fucking Katsuki and his brutal fucking speech bubble interjecting with the most vicious insult his angry toddler brain could think of. this panel has the same energy as Deku receiving a heartfelt thank you letter from a child whose life he saved only to unfold it and read that iconic opening line, “SORRY FOR PUNCHING YOU IN THE BALLS LOL”
oh my
boy took matters into his own hands. after Enji just STRAIGHT UP IGNORED HIS PLEAS lmao. this entire chapter is a gift, and we’re only on the second page. also that katakana there is all “SUPON”, which I don’t know what that means, but I have to tell you that to me this felt more like a “ZWOOP.” but that’s just how I personally read it
eyyyyy and there’s our half-naked lukewarm boi
and look, I’m not advocating for Shouto to actually be walking around half naked, because this is a children’s manga and Shouto is just a baby, and that kind of thing is obviously inappropriate unless you’re [checks notes] one of his female classmates, who just like Shouto are also only teenagers, but it’s okay for them because they have boobs. hey wait
but anyway, I will say that I appreciate that his uniform really did burn off just as you would expect, and that he used his ice quirk to preserve his modesty lol. quick thinking on his part
meanwhile all the people Deku rescued are stumbling out of their cars nauseously and thanking him. I like how all of the other traffic on this highway has apparently just come to a halt now. I wonder if the Endeavormobile also came equipped with some traffic cones and road flares that launched out of the trunk along with the costumes
oh hey a BakuDeku interaction, don’t mind me, I’m just... [folds hands on desk and leans forward]
someone please tell me what he actually called Deku here because I’m dying to know. anyways whatever it was, “dumb-ku” is a great translation. it’s just the right amount of stupid and immature, and I love how Deku just fucking answers to it anyway like shrug, whatever
also love how the first thing Katsuki asks is whether anyone is hurt. swear to god this kid makes me love him more with each passing week
fond sigh
okay guys, I’m getting more and more excited here now, and let me explain why. it’s because Katsuki, despite having achieved (as Deku points out) a complete and perfect victory here, is very obviously agitated and angry still. and I think the reason for that is because even though he’s achieved the goal Endeavor set out for them, he still hasn’t achieved what he wanted from this internship. the other two have! Deku accomplished his goal of gaining more control over Blackwhip, and Shouto is now well on his way to mastering Flashfire. but Katsuki specifically came here with the intent of discovering something intangible that he couldn’t put a name to. and even though he’s gotten stronger just like the others, he still hasn’t achieved what he set out to do yet, and I think he’s getting frustrated by it. and the reason I’m so excited is because I think we’re inching closer and closer to seeing that finally get resolved. ahhhhhhh
(ETA: THIS CHAPTER IS THE MONKEY’S PAW WISH OF CHAPTERS.)
anyway I’ll shut up now and read. here’s Katsuki bragging to Endeavor, and Endeavor doing his best All Might impression what the fuck
that line could have come straight out of All Might’s mouth and it would have sounded 100% natural. well everyone, we did it. we fucking broke Endeavor. I hope you’re happy. lol what the fuck is happening what is this
DFKLSLDGHK
I fucking see those wobbly speech bubbles Endeavor, are you crying, because -- !! holy shit this chapter is taking my emotions all over the place
lol Kacchan’s pissed off that Endeavor isn’t more pissed off about being shown up by some punk kids
Deku’s eyes. this chapter. I just
ohhhhhhhhhhhh shit here we go
for everyone out there who was worried that Natsu would just forgive Endeavor outright after the events of this chapter, I think we’ve arrived at the part where your fears are assuaged. I pretty much expected this was how it would go down, because for all the criticism he’s been getting week after week, Horikoshi has been writing the Todorokis realistically and consistently throughout this entire arc, and this was the natural conclusion based on what we’ve seen up till now. Natsuo won’t just forgive Endeavor just like that, because why would he? and Endeavor just has to deal with it. and it’s all very sad and painfully real
SON OF A BITCH
the fucking words “I’m sorry” really just came out of his mouth at last, holy shit. this is the first time, right? as far as I can recall, anyway. oh shit
oh shit
my fucking jaw. just dropped. just. fuck me, I wasn’t ready for this. sure Enji, just go ahead and pour your heart out. lord
imagine if his voice actor goes all out in this scene like Katsuki’s did in episode 61. holy shit, I never thought the thing that destroyed me would be a sad confession in a fucking shounen manga by the character I used to despise. life is funny
ohhhhhhhhhh
[awkward glance around the fandom] soooo. how’s everybody doing? aheh. [coughs]
oh shiiiiiiIIIIItttt
oh look at that, Endeavor didn’t actually murder his child, who could have predicted that. but maybe I’ll just shut up now though since I’m not here to start any shit
and the pain train to feels junction just keeps on chugging. fuck
YOU SEE!! BRUTAL!! RUTHLESS!! SO REALISTIC IT HURTS. Endeavor is genuinely sorry, but it’s all coming way too late to be of any use! and Natsuo is so pained because he honestly probably would like nothing more than to be able to forgive his dad, and for them to all just be a happy, normal, loving family again, but he can’t. because they’re not. and apologies can’t erase the past, or make up for it. there is no way to change what happened. Touya’s still dead, and the scars from all those years of neglect and abuse are still fucking there, and they’re not just going to go away, even if Enji is remorseful. Enji becoming a good man now doesn’t make up for all the years that he wasn’t! he can’t just undo it! and that’s the tragedy of it!! you feel so bad for the man -- or at least, I do -- but at the same time, part of the atonement process is to accept the consequences of everything he did!
and also, for everyone saying he hasn’t faced any actual consequences yet -- one person in particular sent me a very detailed and thoughtful ask, which I apologize for not responding to yet -- I say this with all due respect: there. look. there are your consequences, right there. everything he will never have. everything he can’t salvage. the pain of knowing he was the cause of all this. the pain of seeing the misery in his son’s eyes and knowing he can’t fix it, and knowing the hurt he’s caused to the ones he loved most. that is karma. that’s a fucking punishment. that’s an agony beyond any physical torture that anyone could ever possibly dream up. his punishment is that after all these years, he finally gets to feel all of the suffering he’s inflicted on them, and he’d do anything to take it back now, but he can’t. that’s it! and we all fucking hate it, and no one is happy! and it’s not fucking fair! haha! but that’s how it fucking is, though. and I swear to god, I keep saying it, but it’s some of the most brutally realistic shit I’ve ever seen in a fucking manga. fuck
anyways, I need to stop monologuing or else I’m never going to finish this fucking chapter, but rest assured my soul is being ripped the fuck apart. hmm
:’)
(ETA: note the conspicuous lack of a Kacchan reaction panel directly after the “I’m never gonna forgive you” panel. everyone else gets one. but not him. in fact, there are no more reaction panels of him until this speech ends, and then we get one zoomed far away where we can’t really see his face. but I’m sure that’s all just a coincidence and means absolutely nothing! oh baby. what a chapter.)
:’)))))))
by the way, quick shoutout to that person in the taxi giving them the Rock Lee Eyes and having just no idea what the fuck is going on sob. thanks to you for keeping me from breaking into full on sobs here. I’m holding it together for you, random deer-in-headlights citizen
[INHALES!!!]
that’s it. I don’t. fuck. anyways. I ranted about all my feelings already, so just. ... you all get it by this point, right?
oh Kacchan. penny for your thoughts. I’m almost done with that essay I keep rewriting. you have a lot to think about right now huh
and Shouto. oh Shouto. safe to say this is a side of his father he’s never seen nor imagined he would see before
YOU GUYS THIS IS SO FUCKING IMPORTANT THOUGH, SHIT
[GRABS THIS PANEL AND FRANTICALLY WAVES IT ALL OVER THE BNHA TAG] I’M!!! JUST!!! SAYING!!! THOUGH!!!!!!!
oh, we’re still going? SURE WHY THE FUCK NOT
WHATEVER HORIKOSHI!!! JUST KEEP COMING AT ME, THEN!! GO AHEAD AND FINISH ME OFF WITH A FUCKING SUPLEX OF FEELS!! YOU SON OF A BITCH
and now Ending’s freaking the fuck out and screaming for Endeavor to stop. lol it’s like the villain version of Can’t Ya See-Kun. Endeavor you jackhole, this isn’t on brand! CUT IT OUT
forget it, Jake. it’s Character Development
now the police are arriving and Deku’s like THANK GOODNESS because the awkwardness was about to go critical here. meanwhile, pay no attention to how Katsuki is staring at him despite having no real reason to be in this panel!
[sidles up next to Kacchan] so hey fella. did any of that hit a nerve, perchance. did it open any metaphorical eyes. dust off any momentous revelations that you’ve been valiantly trying to keep shelved in your mental basement. have the SEEDS of your PERSONAL GROWTH been CULTIVATED. are the JEHOVAH’S WITNESSES of NOT BEING A DICK knocking at your inner door!?
anyway so now we’re cutting to Endeavor talking with the authorities while Chauffeur Armstrong tells him he needs to watch his back
friendly reminder that a bearded hermit flew around town on a glass hoverchair singing a song about Endeavor bringing darkness to the world or some shit not too long ago. that’s still a thing! better watch it Enji
HOLY FUCKARONI
(ETA: shoutout to that “neither does the light” line because that’s some straight up Harry Potter quotable bullshit and I love it and Endeavor’s character development continues to slay me that is all.)
FUCKING!!! CHRIST!!! OH GOD!!! OH JESUS!!!!
HMGGHHHHAAAA SOMEONE HELP ME OH MY GOD I’M SHAKING, AHHHHHHH
(ETA: listen you guys, in all of my “!!!!” I didn’t stop to appreciate all of the other things about this scene. but Shouto has changed into his hero costume which is a great little detail that I love because he obviously didn’t feel like standing around freezing his butt off and being oggled by the crowd. and then we have Natsu coming over to thank them all for saving his life, which is great, and he’s such a sweetheart. and then Deku actually saying “Bakugou” for probably the first and only time in his life lmao. and then, finally, his fucking face when he realizes Kacchan has finally chosen a hero name. he’s fucking ecstatic. he can’t wait!! anyway so Deku is me.)
NO BUT I’M FULLY SERIOUS YOU GUYS, I’M TREMBLING LIKE A FUCKING LEAF, IT’S PROBABLY THE CAFFEINE IN ME BUT STILL, OH MY GOD, I’M PARALYZED, I CAN’T SCROLL DOWN, MY HEART IS POUNDING, MY LIFE IS ABOUT TO BE FOREVER CHANGED, OH FUCKSTICKS, OH SHIT
NOOOOOOOOOOO
FUCK MY FUCKING -- WHERE IS HAWKS!!?!? WHERE IS HE!?!? I SWEAR TO GOD IF THAT FUCKING MAGPIE DOESN’T SWOOP DOWN RIGHT THE FUCK NOW WITH JEANIST IN TOW ALL “HAHA IT WAS ALL A MISUNDERSTANDING” I’M GOING TO --
(ETA: but lmao at the fact that Shouto was all “okay, so you’re not going to tell him, but what about me, your Best Friend?” like he really heard “DROP DEAD ASSHOLE” and thought “well, that was Midoriya though, LET ME TAKE A STAB AT IT.” this is the most earnest child in the universe and this OT3 continues to bring me boundless joy.)
FUCK
LISTEN YOU KNOW I LOVE THAT TODODRAMA, BUT YOU CAN’T JUST DO THAT TO ME!! I’M A HUMAN BEING!! IF YOU CUT ME I BLEED!! WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS. I’M GOING TO STRAIGHT UP CRY ALL OVER AGAIN YOU HEARTLESS PIECE OF SHIT
looool
“and his friends.” you hear that, Kacchan. now COME BACK OUT HERE AND TELL US YOUR HERO NAME RIGHT NOW YOUNG MAN!!!
Endeavor you better save this chapter. I’m counting on you dog
oh. oh shit
hahaha. well fuck
first of all, look at Mr. “la dee dah I’m just going to build my family a new house on a whim because I’m so fucking rich” over here, like, damn, Endeavor. and second of all my heart is just a bludgeoned hemorrhaging mass of feels at this point and I’m not even going to try to salvage it. and third of all, this is exactly the type of resolution I wanted, pain and all, and I’m so goddamn satisfied with it it’s almost ridiculous. because the man fucking gets it. for everyone who continues to doubt Endeavor’s intentions, look no fucking further than this. this isn’t a narcissist trying to gaslight his victims and get back in his family’s good graces and make it all about him yet again. this is a man who understands that the best thing for his family right now is for them to be allowed to piece their lives back together without him. and so he’s enabling them to do that, and voluntarily stepping out of the picture while still providing for them. and damn but I respect that so much. fuck yeah, Enji. this was the right thing to do. it doesn’t make up for all the mistakes you’ve made, because nothing can do that. but you’re a better man now, and this right here is exactly the type of thing people mean when they say actions speak louder than words. so, respect
and that’s it! we’ve officially experienced all of the human emotions in this chapter! oh and also that’s it, as in the chapter is done. so yeah. well that sure was a whirlwind now wasn’t it
#bnha 252#endeavor#bakugou katsuki#todoroki natsuo#todoroki shouto#midoriya izuku#bnha#boku no hero academia#bnha spoilers#mha spoilers#makeste reads bnha#lol I couldn't think of any funny tags on account of ALL THE FEELS STILL HAVING THEIR WAY WITH ME#if anything comes to mind later I'll edit this#this chapter hit me like a sock full of loose change#just#I need a minute
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Can you scream a bit more about that one moment when Shinichi was all 'let me play dumb for her' because he knew what her expression meant and he loves her so much? I don't think there's been enough appreciation of that moment and it's a crime
I really wanted to SCREAM about it when it came out, but life got in the way and yadda yadda yadda
BUT ALAS HERE I AM TO SCREAM ABOUT IT NOW THANK YOU FOR PROVIDING ME THE CHANCE TO DO SO!
What I love so much about that entire file --other than Hattori failing to confess again, JESUS CHRIST let the boy live Aoyama please-- is two things that I’m always excited to see.
The first is Shinichi’s brotherly “this competition is childish Hattori can’t you see??? Please get your head out of the gutter and just FOCUS ON THE IMPORTANT THINGS... Oh? Oh you want to go there? You fucking want to go there? I will go there bitch I am the protagonist of this story and you know I’m gonna whip your ass” side which is always a pleasure to see.
The second is that it really managed to single-handedly invalidate every single argument that the haters use to try and prove Shinichi isn’t good enough for Ran “because, to him, cases are always first.”
The sheer audacity of that statement, I swear to God.
Because it’s a complete fucking lie. It’s just not fucking true. And this isn’t the first time that statement has been proven wrong. Let me redirect you to the single greatest piece of storytelling Aoyama has ever written --and will probably ever write: The Desperate Revival Arc. A lot of things happen in that Arc, but the thing that interests us now is the fact that Shinichi really tries to give up solving the case just to stay with Ran and tell her how he feels. Why do we forget this moment as often as we do? This moment is one of the biggest milestones in Shinichi’s character development. This is a guy who always runs off whenever he hears a scream to see what’s going on. This is a man whose life and soul is consumed by mysteries and murders and cases. This is a detective. And yet, he’s in this restaurant, he’s with the love of his life, he’s determined to make what little time left he has count, he’s about to tell her how he feels --and there’s a scream and people are saying some man’s been gruesomely murdered and the guy honestly tries really hard to ignore it. It isn’t until Ran tells him --insists, really-- to go that he finally --somewhat regrettably-- chooses to do so. But staying with Ran is always his first option. G r o w t h.
The same thing happens here, though slightly differently. Shinichi has no interest in competition, usually. It comes up often with Hattori --literally this is a huge part of their dynamic since Hattori’s first appearance-- and Shinichi’s answer is always the same: there is no competition to be had. It isn’t even because he’s conceitedly aware that he will probably win --which he does, most of the time. It’s because, as he says in Hattori’s first case --The Diplomat’s Murder Case--, when it comes to deductions, there’s no winners or losers. The only reason why he has some remote interest in solving the case first is because he thinks Ran is rooting for him and doesn’t want to let her down.
But then what happens? Then our boy proves why he’s Ran’s essential soulmate. He takes one look at her and immediately recognizes her face, her expression, and realizes what Ran really wants. WITH ONE FUCKING LOOK. THAT’S ALL IT FUCKING TAKES. And so to hell with competition and to hell with the case and to hell with winning. He’s doing what Ran wants --what will make Ran happy-- because she’s always been and always will be his number one priority.
(It’s worth noting, that some may argue that Shinichi gives up solving the case because he’s sure Hattori will solve it, and so that’s why he gives it up and he wouldn’t have done it otherwise. Here’s where I come back shoving The Desperate Revival scene back in their faces to prove that Shinichi really was willing to let some case potentially go unsolved just to keep Ran happy.)
The other great thing I just HAVE to mention is that last panel with Hattori and Shinichi adoringly looking at Ran and Kazuha because MY HEART. These two idiots really love them so fucking much and I cry.
#detective conan#shinran#heikazu#conan#conan ask#shinran ask#otp: diu que vol que l'esperis#THANK YOU FOR ASKING!!!!!#I MISS ANSWERING ALL OF Y'ALL'S ASKS#Anonymous#fave asks
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Witch Hazel- Pt.4
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Genre: FanficWriter!Jungkook, Idol!Reader, College!AU, Angst, Fluff
Summary: There are two students in your art class with a secret: you and the quiet Jeon Jungkook. You’re a problematic idol singer, infamous for your ice cold reputation and perpetual resting bitch face; he’s the artist and author behind the viral comic series based on a certain ice queen idol. After a blowup of destructive rumors, lost motivation and inevitable solitude, you stumble upon Jungkook’s comic and find a new and unexpected light.
Word Count: 3.5k
Warnings: none
Parts: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // ?
A/N: my hope is that the idol industry can one day become a safer place for those who have dedicated their lives to making others happy ❤️
-
“Let me guess, you’re the type who needs to feel needed but also pushes people away?”
“How would you know that, Bunny Boy?”
“It’s my power.”
“You have powers too?” Snow blinks her pretty blue eyes. “Can you read minds?”
“I certainly can’t read minds,” Bunny Boy laughs. “But I am pretty good at reading hearts.”
“Oh yeah? What’s my heart feeling right now?”
“Well for starters, you seem to be annoyed by me prying too deep.”
“You are annoying.”
“And you also think I’m kinda cute.”
“I do not!”
You giggle into your phone screen for the hundredth time as you read through the latest Witch Hazel update. With the reveal of another character with secret powers, you wonder what Snow will make out of him. A friend? An ally? Or perhaps just someone who gets her.
Beneath the last comic panel of Snow rolling her eyes at the unofficially named Bunny Boy, you find cute little comments from the author.
“all i hope is for snow to take care of herself during this hiatus”
“even if it’s only a tiny amount, maybe witch hazel can help supplement as new snow content for now;;;;;;”
“ah i didnt mean to sound as if i were anywhere near snow’s level or anything;;;;;;”
“i just hope she knows she doesnt have to carry any burden all on her own”
“she has people on her side”
Your face doesn’t know whether to smile or shed tears, so you do a combination of both. It’s true, you’ve always felt alone. Always. No matter how many staff members it takes to produce an album or how many fans buy that album, you’ve never once felt that people could look beyond your idol music, your icy eyes, your mask.
But that’s exactly why you’re taking a break. You need to separate your worth from the music attached to your name. You need to prove to yourself that you’re more than what the critics and magazines say. And you’re only realizing it now that you can’t do it alone.
If only you had your own jk.seagull in your life. You’re sure the two of you would mesh well together.
-
“Where is that kid?” Taehyung pats the empty seat next to him before class starts. “He never skips class. I remember one time he literally rejected a date with a super cute girl because he ‘had to get to class’. Can you believe that?”
“Knowing Jungkook, I’d believe it,” you shrug. It does feel oddly empty without his presence, though.
“Oh really? You know all there is to know about the mysterious phenomenon that is Jeon Jungkook? It sounds like you guys got real acquainted on that date the other day.”
“It wasn’t a date, Taehyung. It was a meeting for a group project that you didn’t show up to.”
“Well it all evens out since Jungkook didn't show up today. Who knows, maybe you won’t show up tomorrow.”
“I’m sure he has a good reason for being absent. Unlike you.” You have to admit, it does worry you a little. Especially after the hints of doubt Jungkook expressed about his own beautiful art. You wish he knew how amazing of an artist he really is.
“What are you talking about? My reason was valid.”
“Having your cock sucked for five hours straight is not a valid reason, by the way.” You roll your eyes. “Let me guess, today you have a threesome scheduled after class and dinner date at 5?”
“Ouch, you don’t have to be so harsh, Y/N.” Taehyung pretends to be offended, but he doesn’t deny your comment either. “You’re really his type, you know.”
“I’m whose type?”
“Jungkook’s.”
“Where is this coming from all of a sudden?”
“I’ve said this before, but you’re a lot like Snow.”
“How?”
“In how you present yourself,” Taehyung says. “You and her both come across as cold and heartless, but somehow I don’t buy it.” He doesn’t buy what? That you’re just as much of a bitch on the inside too? Ha.
“Jungkook must have weird taste then,” you shrug. Because in your opinion, you’re not exactly an easy person to love.
“But-” Taehyung is cut off by the professor starting class. You don’t know what more he could’ve said to make you change your mind anyway.
“There won’t be any lecture for today’s class.” Your professor is busy typing away at her computer, perhaps trying to get caught up on paperwork and grading old assignments. “Instead, I want you all to take this time to work on your group projects. You may leave the classroom if you must, but remember to stay on task!”
With that, your classmates jam out of the room as if they were just freed from prison. You hear a couple of friends deciding which boba place to try out. Another group, the overachievers of the class, head somewhere outside to actually work on the project. Taehyung, too, looks as if there’s somewhere else he needs to be.
“So I-”
“Go ahead and get laid,” you sigh, shooing the boy away with your hand. “We’ll work next time when all three of us are here.”
“Thanks, Y/N! You get me,” Taehyung waves bye before dashing off.
You wave back as the hall clears out around you. It seems everyone else has found somewhere to go. Everyone except you.
But it’s fine. You’re fine.
Buzz! You jump at the sudden phone notification that seems to echo off the walls of the empty hall. Oh look, it’s a text from your only friend.
10:32AM jinnie❤️ “good morning ^O^// just checking in on you”
10:33AM jinnie❤️ “how are you holding up with everything?”
“I’m fine!” you mumble rather aggressively to yourself, sliding your ass down onto the filthy hallway floor before texting back. Your chunky guitar case sits in your lap like a baby so it doesn’t get dirty.
10:34AM Y/N “i miss seeing you at work everyday :((((”
10:34AM Y/N “lololololol jk”
10:35AM Y/N “fuck work, am i right”
10:36AM jinnie❤️ “Y/N”
10:37AM Y/N “😒”
10:37AM Y/N “im fine”
10:38AM jinnie❤️ “thats exactly what people say when theyre not fine”
But you are fine. You’re completely fine with sitting all alone in an empty hallway, texting your only friend who also happens to be your manager.
10:39AM jinnie❤️ “what are you doing now?”
You pick up your guitar and start walking away. Obviously, you can’t tell him what you were actually doing because it would worry him too much. But you can’t lie to him either.
10:41AM Y/N “if you really must know”
You wait until you arrive at your new location before answering Seokjin’s million-dollar question. You’ve found your place.
10:45AM Y/N “im practicing in the music room before my theory class starts”
He sends you the Surprised Pikachu meme but also a few supportive comments.
10:46AM jinnie❤️ “good luck!”
10:46AM jinnie❤️ “and if you ever need something, please reach out to me!”
10:47AM jinnie❤️ “ill be checking in on you every now and then, but please enjoy your time off~”
10:48AM Y/N “thank you seokjin”
With your manager off your back, you settle into the empty music classroom and pull your trusty guitar out of its case. The flat and out of tune strings remind you of how long it’s been since the last time you touched the guitar. Because despite carrying it around wherever you go, it’s all for show.
In all honesty, you’re too afraid to let others hear, and yet, part of you wants them to know. You want them to know you’re an artist in your own right—without the judgment. But that’s asking for too much from this cruel world. Especially when you know you aren’t there yet.
One by one, you turn the pegs on your guitar, fine tuning each string by ear. That’s always been your secret talent, and maybe that’s how you’ve never been off-key since the moment you said your first words. If there was one thing you had going for you as an idol, it was that.
Once all the strings are tuned, you just sit there, staring at your fingers curved naturally in the C chord position. The muscle memory is still very much ingrained in you, but so are the scars. The last time you actually held your guitar, you were told you weren’t good enough. So you ended up settling for something else.
Today, however, you want to change that. You shouldn’t let several people’s opinions determine what you can or can’t amount to just because they were the professionals of the industry who supposedly “knew” what they were doing. They didn’t know you then, and they certainly don’t know you now. They don’t even know your real name.
But that’s okay. Having a secret identity makes you feel as though you can someday become a true superhero, someone who makes the world a better place from behind the scenes. In that sense, you want to be someone like your current favorite person on the internet, jk.seagull. You don’t know him, nor do you know his real name.
All you know is that his craft makes you happy.
With the funny fanfic boy in mind, you glance up to make sure the coast is clear before taking your first strum. Despite the dullness of your old worn-out strings, what your ears hear is crisp and bright.
-
You aren’t sure how much time has passed since you began singing along to a melody only you know, but you’re suddenly pulled back into reality with a single mention of her from outside the classroom.
“What do you think about the Snow news?”
“It’s honestly sad.”
“With how little she contributes to her music, I really don’t think she deserves a break.”
“She should just keep going. How hard is it to sing a few songs? I hope she knows she’s letting a lot of people down just so she could relax.”
“Or better yet, she should just retire early.”
You set down your guitar on the piano bench. You’ve heard quite enough and you’re ready to slam the door on the noisy group passing by. But by the time you peek your head out from the crack, the group is already at the other end of the hall. You do, however, find a surprise sitting right outside the music room.
The boy who was supposedly too sick to come to class is too busy sketching away to notice you staring at him.
“How long have you been sitting out here?”
The tiny hairs on the back of the boy’s neck stand up as his drawing hand freezes at the sound of your voice. He turns around, looking up at you as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have been doing.
“Since I started sketching.” Jungkook shows you a simple yet pretty drawing of a flowery spring field. By his art standards, it couldn’t have taken him long to draw that one page.
But it isn’t until you start flipping through the rest of the pages in the sketchbook that you realize he’d been sitting there for quite a while. Each page is similar to the last with only slight differences in between. When you fly through the pages like a flipbook, you see the whole picture.
From the first sketch of spring flowers, snow slowly covers the field until only a single flower remains in a winter wonderland. If you go in reverse, you can watch as the snow melts away until that one flower disappears amongst its brethren.
“What kind of flower is that?” You point to the one that somehow managed to blossom through the thickness of the snow. Maybe if it were colored in, you’d have a better idea.
“A strong one?” Jungkook shrugs as if he’s not the artist who knows the the answer. You hate yourself for cackling along at his lousy joke. He closes his sketchbook as a way to change the subject. “Why aren’t you in class?”
“Funny you should ask. The professor dismissed our class to work on the group projects. And then Tae ditched to go do his usual skirt-chasing shenanigans because somebody in our group didn’t show up.”
“Sorry,” the boy bites his lower lip with a hint of regret. “I didn’t really feel well enough to sit in class today.”
“Then why didn’t you just stay at home?”
“I still had this project to turn in and finish for my other class.” He raises his sketchbook. “And besides, music is the best medicine.”
You feel your cheeks burning up. The last person you expected to catch you messing around with your guitar in the music department was the art student who was supposed to be out sick. “How much did you hear…?”
“All I heard was one song…” He assures you for a slight second before going in for the kill, “…that you kept replaying over and over and over-”
“I get it. You heard a lot,” you hiss. “You better not tell anyone! Not even Tae.”
“I won’t,” he promises, chuckling at your distress. It seems the kid’s gotten comfortable enough around you to start clowning you. “It’s a nice song, by the way.”
“Really?” You want to believe him, but you have a hard time doing so. When all you’ve heard was brutal criticism for the past few years, it’s difficult to accept any compliment without feeling like there’s ill intent behind it. It feels wrong to feel good about yourself.
Besides, maybe he’s just complimenting you out of obligation. Like he’s trying to be nice, even if he doesn’t actually feel that way about your song.
“I’ll burden the pain so you don’t have to,” he says.
“What?”
“That’s a line from the lyrics, right?”
You nod.
“It’s a very Y/N thing to say.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Jungkook shrugs and swirls his Sailor Venus keychain around his index finger. “Just take it as a compliment, Y/N.”
If not for his soft teasing smile, your mind would still be filled with doubt. Instead, you accept the compliment and gain a tiny bit of confidence back.
“Come in for a second,” you start walking back inside the music room. “And close the door behind you.”
Jungkook does as he’s told, his eyes glued to your guitar as you pick it up off the piano bench. There, you do something you’ve never practiced but had always hoped to perform as Snow—your own acoustic version of one of your songs.
It doesn’t matter that you’ve never practiced or touched your guitar in years. You know the key, the chords, the strum pattern. And you know how to make it your own. Not Snow’s or anyone else’s.
When you’re done with your mini acoustic performance, the boy can’t help but chuckle. He’s about to clown you again. You can feel it.
“What??”
“It’s nothing.”
“Jungkook.”
“It’s seems like you don’t hate Snow as much as you lead on.”
“I was only trying to show how I would’ve done the song if I were her.”
“Ah, so you criticize Snow so much because you think you can do better?”
“Not necessarily better… just differently.” You hope that answer is enough to satisfy the boy. But it’s not. He only nods with an awfully suspicious smirk. “What now??”
“It’s cool that you want to be a songwriter.”
“I never said that I did,” you say with a slight pout and hmph. You’ve never once mentioned your true dreams to anyone besides maybe some random kid at camp when you were ten. You’d hate to announce your bold aspirations with the utmost confidence, only to flop and fail before achieving anything. You’d rather keep it a secret until you perhaps “pop-off” as the kids say.
“Sure.” He doesn’t believe you.
“Are you always this sassy when you’re sick?”
His long locks flow as he shakes his head. “I’m feeling better now, actually. Thanks to your medicine.”
Maybe the kid was faking his sickness all along. Then again, Taehyung did say Jungkook wasn’t the type to skip class under most circumstances. Perhaps there was something else that was bothering him.
“Wait, you weren’t upset about Snow’s hiatus, right?” You remember the gossip from the noisy group that had passed by earlier. The beating you took from their words still stings.
“To be honest, I was worried about her at first with everything that went on,” Jungkook says. “But I think she probably just needed some time away from all that.”
“Probably,” is all you say, doing your best to downplay the amount of relief his words gave you. He isn’t upset or let down; he just wishes the best for your well-being. And as an idol, that’s all you’ve ever asked for. “You know, you’re the nicest Snow fan I’ve ever met.”
“You know a lot of other Snow fans?” Jungkook tilts his head at your odd statement. Oh right. You’ve only really met other fans as Snow, not as Y/N. Now you sound suspicious.
“Oh yeah, for sure. My friend, Seokjin, reads Snow smut all the time,” you force out a laugh while making a mental apology to your manager. Then you decide it’s best to change the subject before you blow your cover. “Speaking of fanfiction, I need your opinion on Witch Hazel!”
“What about it?”
“The new bunny character.” You whip out your phone for direct reference of the comic. “He’s funny, right?”
“He’s good at teasing Snow,” Jungkook looks at your phone screen of the bunny saying that Snow thinks he’s cute. “I wonder if he’ll make her fall for him.”
“I want him to.” Your eyes light up without knowing. To have Snow fall in love is wishful thinking, but a large part of you craves romance deep down—even if it’s only for the fictional version of yourself. “But at the same time, he’s not Snow’s type.”
“What’s Snow’s type?”
“Huh?” You somehow managed to fuck up again, so you shrink yourself and hope to disappear. “I don’t know… Why would I know what Snow’s type is…? It’s probably not a playboy like the bunny, but I wouldn’t know that…!”
“So you think she’d like someone more… considerate?”
You nod. “Probably just someone who takes the time to get to know her.”
“I guess we’ll see in the upcoming chapters.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” You can’t quite hold back a smile. After all, your day always feels a lot better when it involves your favorite little comic.
Jungkook must’ve noticed your face because he makes a comment. “I am curious, though, as to why you like Witch Hazel so much when you clearly don’t care for Snow herself.”
“For me, it has nothing to do with Snow.” To mask your smile, you make a cute duck face instead. “Reading it just… makes me happy.” As much as you’d hate to admit it, it’s been a long time since anything has given you good vibes the way that one comic does.
“That’s good,” the boy says, gathering his things to head to his next class. “It’s the same for me with Snow’s music… in case you were wondering.” And with that, he leaves you with something to think about.
If Snow’s music is Jungkook’s medicine, Witch Hazel is yours.
-
By the time you get home from school, you’re still smiling like an idiot after what Jungkook had said. Snow’s music makes him happy, and the mere thought of that makes you happy. It’s in (very rare) times like this that you remember why you chose to become an idol in the first place. It’s why you endure the pain.
With your mind clouded in an unfamiliar wave of emotion, you pull out your phone and tap on Jungkook’s contact information. After changing his contact name to something cuter, you start composing a casual message just to say hi.
Jungkook. What if I told you a secret?
Delete. You’ve never deleted a message so quick. You don’t even know which secret you would’ve told the boy. That you’re his crush, Snow? Or that he’s yours? Not that you have a huge crush on him… You swear it’s just a tiny one!
Regardless, you shouldn’t be sharing any of your deepest secrets with him—at least not for now. It’s not that you don’t trust him. It’s just that it’s a tricky situation to be in.
Your eyes move from your guitar, to the stacks of handwritten sheet music beside it, to the album that won you your first award—where the pain all began. Even the most supportive fan could not imagine what you’ve given up to be the idol that you are, to be someone with a name.
The only thing you can do now is take it all back. And only then will you let Jungkook in. But until that time comes, you don’t belong to him or anyone else.
4:44PM Snow “Are you free to talk?”
4:46PM Jimin “Yeah”
#bts scenarios#bts fanfic#bts angst#jungkook fanfic#btsboulangerie#bts fluff#bts imagines#jungkook x reader#bts college au#bts idol au#jungkook#bts#bangtan#witch hazel
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Good Jokes
Chapter 16
Tommy fell asleep in the Cadillac.
He didn’t mean to, and he didn’t doze for very long. Bubby’s erratic approach to driving made sure of that; he yanked the vehicle around like it was a bull instead of a car. Tommy was in the middle of wondering if this man even had a license when he drifted off, head lolling toward Gordon’s shoulder.
He’d been running without sleep for nearly four days, adrenaline jumpstarting in his veins over and over again by their nightmarish circumstances, and the seat cushion of the Caddy was the softest thing he’d sat on since the week began. He was too exhausted, even, to think about Gordon’s thigh pressed against his in the backseat, or their shoulders jostling together as the car whipped through the garage.
When Bubby crunched into a wall, Tommy snapped awake again.
Gordon nudged him enthusiastically and pointed through the front windshield. “Good thing Benrey’s our hood ornament,” he said, leaning in close to be heard over the roar of the engine. “He can’t die.”
Tommy’s returning laugh was tired. He rubbed his face, accidentally elbowing Gordon as he did so. There was no reason for him to sit this close to him - the rightmost passenger seat was wide open - but he appreciated the proximity. Gordon was warm and solid, and would have made for a delightful spot to nap on if the sound of distant gunfire didn’t startle him back on the alert.
“Bubby, get the fuck outta here, the Marines are coming!” Gordon shouted.
In the rearview mirror, Tommy could see Bubby baring his teeth in a grimace as he cut the wheel one way and the other. The car inched bit by bit out of the alcove he’d gotten them all stuck in, bobbing the heads of his passengers back and forth with each press of the gas pedal.
“All you need to do is parallel park,” Dr. Coomer said, throwing a nervous glance over his shoulder at the soldiers charging in their direction.
“Learn how to park,” Benrey added. He strolled across the hood and stepped lightly over Coomer’s head, settling into the open seat on Gordon’s right.
The man paid him no attention, practically standing in the back seat as he craned his neck toward the immediate danger. “We’re not parking – god, we’re in an Austin Powers situation!” he growled in exasperation. A sudden jolt of the vehicle made him lose his footing and he ducked down again. “Fuck this!”
Bubby finally manhandled the car into a driveable position and peeled out, cackling madly as gunshots whizzed over their heads.
“Fine work!” Coomer patted the other scientist’s arm approvingly. “Positive thinking in action.”
Gordon finally noticed Benrey lounging in the seat beside him when the entity smacked him in the face with an elbow as he put his hands lazily behind his head. Gordon grit his teeth and rubbed his temple, expression soured by the company.
“Oh, hey, Benrey,” he grumbled. “Welcome to the ride.”
“There’s – there’s a-“ Benrey’s razor teeth glimmered as he broke off to laugh. “There’s a pungent smell right beside me, I don’t know.”
Gordon rolled his eyes. “Oh my god, shut up.”
The Cadillac glanced off the side of the tunnel as Bubby swung them around a dangerous curve. The HEV suit colliding with Tommy’s ribcage just about knocked the wind out of him.
He pitched forward, gripping a hand on the back of the driver’s seat as he called to the prototype. “Do you know how to drive?” he asked.
Bubby revved the engine and didn’t answer.
The sped out of the parking garage, leaving the Marines behind in the wake of squealing tires and the smell of gasoline. The Caddy was making a loud juddering sound as it careened through the tunnel and, while Tommy was no mechanic, he guessed that most Cadillacs weren’t supposed to make that noise. Still, it was preferable to the sound of Benrey screeching about a road trip at the top of his lungs.
“Gentlemen, we don’t even need to go to the Lambda Lab,” Coomer declared triumphantly as they cleared the garage and emerged into the bright sun of day. We’re going home!”
“We’re going to the moon!” Benrey interjected.
What they were going to do was crash, Tommy realized. Bubby gunned the vehicle straight toward the parking compound’s heavy metal door.
“Yeah! Fuck it!” Gordon said, throwing up his hands. “Leave the world as it is! Oh, no, no-no-no-n- d-“
Their necks collectively snapped forward from the impact as the Cadillac crunched in on itself against the gate. Tommy groaned and held his head in his hands while Benrey chuckled darkly to himself.
“Bro!” Gordon burst out once he recovered.
Bubby was calmly climbing out of the vehicle, giving the smoking hood an unconcerned look. “Oh, the engine stalled,” he said neutrally.
“The whip- the whiplash!” Gordon insisted, rubbing his neck and wincing. “Come on. Come on.”
Tommy hastily found the handle and popped open the door as soon as he registered the ominous hissing sound coming from the front of the car. He slid out and hustled to a safe distance, trusting the others to follow his lead.
“Yep, it’s fucked,” Bubby muttered as he strode out of harm’s way.
Coomer, following suit, gave him a light tap on the small of his back. “You’ll just have to repair the Cadillac after the test,” he reassured him.
God, that never got old, Tommy thought as he snickered. He reached a hand behind him to tug Gordon along and was met with empty air.
Bubby’s voice rang out across the yard. “Gordon, you have to bail!”
Tommy whirled in time to see the car turn into a fireball with Gordon inside. He reacted without thinking, flinging up a psychic barrier between him and the explosion right before the blast took him. Gordon was launched thirty feet backward and tumbled into the dust, singed and smoking. There was a beat of silence where the man was worryingly still, but then he let out a groan and shielded his face from the sun with his arm.
Gravel crunched under Tommy’s shoes as he hurriedly approached him. “Mr. Freeman, that was so close,” he said, fighting off the tightness in his voice as he knelt beside him. “Why didn’t you get out of the car?”
Gordon’s eyes slowly focused on Tommy’s face, still disoriented from the impact. “Cause I didn’t – cause I-”
“Gordon, it’s dangerous to remain in a vehicle when the engine’s on fire,” Coomer interrupted, sounding concerned.
Carefully propping himself into a sitting position, Gordon’s gaze fixed on Benrey, who was studying the two of them with an amused smile, head tipped to the side. “Did this bitch put glue on the seat?” he demanded, flinging a hand in the entity’s direction. “My ass is sticky.”
The pile of wreckage that used to be a perfectly handsome Cadillac hissed and smoked in the following silence. Tommy glared at Benrey, knowing full well that he intended to kill Gordon before this journey was over. He’d had his fun, he’d gotten bored, and he was ready to discard him. Tommy helped an unsteady Gordon to his feet, keeping piercing eye contact with the entity as he did so.
Benrey just cupped his hands around his mouth and hollered across the yard, “You got pranked!”
He was lucky he was a healthy distance away from both of them.
---
No more nodding off, Tommy vowed to himself. The fifteen seconds he’d snatched in the backseat of the car would have to be enough to see them through the end of this. Now that he was certain Benrey had it in his head to put Gordon in the ground, he couldn’t afford to doze.
At the top of a communications tower, he set to work figuring out how the machine operated, focusing on the knobs and dials so he wouldn’t wander off to snoozeville. They were surrounded on all sides by heavy compound walls, strung up tight by electrical fencing, and it seemed like the only way out of this area was back underground. Gordon and the other scientists crowded around the radio while Benrey loitered on the edge of the tower, kicking his legs out over a ten story drop. The burning blue sky seared down on all of them.
Gordon’s soldier impersonation made a reappearance and Tommy had to bite the inside of his cheek to contain his laughter.
“Breaker, here, uh,” he stammered into the receiver, pitching his voice down to a hesitant rumble. “Delta – al – uh – zeta, um. I love… ch- killing innocent people… I am sole b-“
He was cut off by a cacophony of commands in the code they had intercepted earlier. As the static shrill from the machine grew louder and more insistent, Gordon and Bubby took the radio out with gunfire until the thing went quiet. Tommy shook out his shoulders as his ears rang. They could have just turned it off.
Dr. Coomer spoke up in the following silence. “Gordon, my ex-wife taught me all about military jargon before we broke up,” he informed him. “Would you like me to translate?”
Gordon nodded. “Yeah.”
“We’re fucked six ways from Sunday,” he said grimly.
In the meantime, Benrey had wandered over to the control panel for the device and was pressing buttons indiscriminately. “I’m scanning your feet,” he said, raising both his voice and his eyes toward Gordon.
Tommy folded his arms. Not this again. He had put up with years of Benrey’s bizarre feet obsession, and he was beginning to suspect it had less to do with a sexual association than it did with the fact that the entity probably didn’t have feet. He couldn’t be entirely sure - the last time he’d asked him about it, the entity had broken Tommy’s wrist.
“What?” Gordon asked, glancing down at where he stood atop the coordinate platform, “What is this?”
“It’s scanning your feet,” Benrey repeated, leering. “This is FootScanner HD, we’re gonna get high-res pictures of your feet, bro.”
Tommy caught a ripple of revulsion cross Gordon’s face. “I don’t want you to have pictures of my feet,” he responded, “I don’t s- I don’t want you to have pictures of my feet.”
Not to mention he was wearing heavy boots and he wasn’t even standing on a scanner, Tommy mused. He watched carefully as Gordon stepped down from the platform and belted the entity with his modified arm, sending him careening off the tower.
“Y’know what? Get off!” he growled.
Benrey was unfazed even as he fell. A distant call of “Gordon Feetman!” echoed off the compound walls.
Gordon folded over on himself with laughter. “He called me Gordon Feetman,” he giggled in astonishment, unable to form an appropriate comeback.
Tommy cast a surreptitious glance over the edge of the tower, searching until he caught sight of the entity uncrumpling himself limb by limb below. He shuddered and returned his attention to the machine while Gordon stepped back onto the platform to gain a better vantage of their surroundings.
This seemed relatively straightforward - punch in the coordinates, move the array, hit the button. He’d seen something similar at the VLA, about two hours outside Albuquerque, but those radio telescopes were used for observation while these were, well, for destroying everything. Shame.
Gordon’s voice tugged at his attention. “Have you scanned my feet enough times, Tommy?”
Tommy flicked his eyes up to meet Gordon’s and made a face of distaste. He liked the guy, but he didn’t have a particular interest in his feet.
“We’re not scanning your feet, dumbass,” Bubby snapped, equally put-off.
“Gordon, this is a radio array for calling down an air strike,” Coomer explained patiently.
He glanced down at the grid on the platform again, realization dawning on his face. “Ohhh. Oh, that’s what that is. Okay,” he stepped off the machine with a heavy clunk of his boots. “So Benrey was lying.”
“If you’d listened to the radio you would have known that,” Bubby huffed as he fiddled with the dials.
An astonished laugh shook his shoulders. “Tell Benrey to shut up!” he shot back defensively. “Tell him to stop – get him to stop! I need help.”
“No you shut up!” floated faintly from somewhere below them.
Tommy spared another look over the edge at the spot on the ground that was rapidly reconstituting itself. Benrey was getting worryingly fast at coming back to life. He pondered if the Resonance Cascade was affecting his abilities while Gordon continued to chuckle nervously.
Several stories beneath their feet, Benrey held up a middle finger, a gesture made all the more grotesque as his shattered arm knitted back together. Tommy frowned. Ass.
Chapter 15 <-----> Chapter 17
#ink#fanfiction#good jokes#part of my endeavor to relocate all my ao3 work#guns#violence#body horror#hlvrai
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You Got Iced - Chapter One
Pairing: Jared x Reader x Jensen
Rating: M, for language (future chapters will be explicit)
Summary: Inspired in part by the challenge prompt and in part by this convention https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yAHS_RJ5Gac (which is fucking hilarious, go enjoy yourselves there). The reader is attending a Supernatural convention during a heat wave and gets her money’s worth out of her ticket that’s for sure.
Word Count: 3556
Warnings: None for this chapter
A/N: Written for @babypieandwhiskey ‘s Hot as Hell challenge. This is only chapter one of an undetermined number. If anyone else wants to be tagged in the rest of the chapters shoot me an ask! I’ll be posting them over the next couple weeks as I finish them. I’m in the process of moving to a different country so it’s taking me a little longer to write than I’d hoped :) (Also I’ve only been to cons in my dreams so sorry if things aren’t totally realistic in that respect).
The convention hall, also known as the shabby ballroom of the Hilton on Main, was clouded in an ungodly, sticky heat that had descended, seemingly from nowhere, the previous night. Even the oppressive heat hadn’t dampened the palpable excitement of the hundreds of people that were crowding into each other’s personal space, waiting for the boys. A dance, so identical it was practically choreographed, spread throughout the audience as the minutes slipped by. People’s heads nodded up and down as they checked the clocks on their phones and then checked the stage again, finding it still empty.
Then a shocking scream erupted from a corner of the room where a ripple of the curtain had announced the imminent arrival of Rob and his band of merry men. Shouts rang out as the band populated the stage and without introduction, cranked out discordant rock chords.
“How you all doing today?” Rob shouted into the microphone and answering hollers echoed back. “No one melted yet?”
An answering “No!” came back from the crowd.
“Alright well let’s get this show on the road before that happens!”
Cheers erupted as the music started, Rob introducing himself, Michael, Billy and Stephen, and Rich who had popped up from behind the curtain in the meantime.
“So hey,” Rich had grabbed his own microphone, “I saw a couple guys lurking backstage, I think you guys might know them, those two really tall motherfuckers that are on TV all the time?” The shrieks that flew out of the crowd must have made the band glad they had earplugs in. “I’m gonna assume that means you guys want them up here too?” Rich prodded with a smirk. More screams. “Yeah I thought so, everyone give it up for Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles!”
The boys, somehow dressed in flannels despite the god awful heat, jogged out on stage, waving and smiling and lapping up the outcry from the nearly hysterical audience members. Picking up the microphones that were waiting for them on the chairs in the centre of the stage, they settled themselves in, Jared flipping his chair around and earning some extra swooning screams because he somehow managed to make that simple movement incredibly seductive.
To be honest, you were glad you had a railing to lean against as you watched them. Terrified excitement gripped your chest as you stared up at them enjoying the turmoil they had engendered, and you felt sweat pooling at the base of your spine that had nothing to do with the sweltering humidity you’d been standing in all morning. You were in one of the two lines of incredibly lucky humans stood near the front of the room, with your question scribbled on a piece of paper in case you totally lost your mind when it was your turn to talk to them.
Just as the noise finally began to die down Jensen grinned into the mic and said, “Hi guys,” pulling a whole new wave of cheers from everyone.
“How are you guys doing?” Jared asked, nodding along to the answers of “great, amazing, good, boiling” that were making their way back to him. They both laughed. “Yeah, it is pretty hot in here isn’t it?”
“Sorry guys, that’s my fault,” Jensen smirked, and Jared shot him a teasing look and fanned himself wildly.
“Seriously, is this normal for here, did we just totally miss a memo?” Jared asked. The crowd shouted that this was completely not normal, it was some sort of sign of the apocalypse, curse from God, that sort of thing. “Oh good, so we’re not total morons,” he nodded, shaking the front of his shirt to encourage some airflow.
“You know what might help, man?” Jensen asked.
“What?” Jared’s face told the crowd that he genuinely didn’t know where Jensen was going with that question.
“If you took the fucking beanie off.”
Laughter rang out followed by hollers of encouragement as Jared shook his head but pulled off the wool knit cap, shaking out his hair and pushing it back out of his eyes.
“Yeah okay, the hat was a stupid move today,” Jared admitted, tossing it casually straight into Jensen’s face. “Do you guys like not know what air conditioning is or…” laughs rippled through the audience and a garbled shout you couldn’t make out made its way towards the stage.
“What was that?” Jensen asked, leaning forward as if that was gonna make it easier to hear. You heard the words repeated but you still couldn’t understand them.
“Bring back strip question?” Jared clarified. The boys chuckled as answering shrieks reached a heightened level of hysteria.
“Honestly, I don’t think we’re gonna need the prompting this time, the layers are just gonna start melting off eventually,” Jensen laughed.
“No but, on a slightly more serious note,” Jared interrupted, “Thank y’all so much for being here. We love you guys and we really appreciate it but it is hot in here so, take care of yourselves, drink water if you have some. If you have to get up and go cool off or get a drink, please, please do, don’t feel bad. We don’t want anyone collapsing out there.”
Jared’s thoughtfulness really touched something in you. He was so unendingly sweet it just showed how much he really felt everyone there was his family. You felt like you mattered and that spread warmth through your limbs that was altogether separate from the heat of the room. Lost in your thoughts briefly after Jared’s PSA you noticed that they had started to take questions from the line, and you shook yourself out in time to hear a small girl’s trembling voice ask, “What was the hardest thing you ever had to do for the show? A stunt or something emotionally difficult or scary to film?”
The panel trickled by, and you tried to absorb every second of it. The minute expressions that Jared and Jensen shared, the laughs they broke from each other, the looks of adoration on every fan’s face, the feeling of gratefulness that swelled in your chest at being anywhere near these two and surrounded by such an incredible amount of happiness. The heat was the constant companion of everyone in the room, and Jared and Jensen were frequently leaving their chairs to make trips to the jugs of iced water that had been set up by the band.
As you neared the front of the question line, Jensen got up for another water break while Jared finished answering a question about the mechanics of one of his favourite shots from last season when he was suddenly interrupted by a growl from Jensen.
“Son of a bitch!” Even without the microphone he was incredibly audible, especially since you were very close to them at this point.
Jared turned around, confused and amused, trying to figure out what the hell Jensen was doing. It quickly became apparent as Jensen pulled from a jug of ice a slim white bottle, shaking the condensation off of it. Jared burst out laughing, clapping his hands together and pointing in mocking.
Walking back to his mic, Jensen twisted the cap off the bottle. “Did you do this, man?” Jensen accused Jared.
“No, I swear,” Jared choked out still laughing. Jensen rounded on the band and Rob and Rich just shrugged, with unapologetic smirks on their faces. “Hey man, at least it’s cold,” Jared offered.
“Ugh I hate these things,” Jensen complained, but he sank to one knee to raucous applause and tipped the Smirnoff Ice back, downing it in an impressively short time. Rob and Rich grinned at each other and shared a surreptitious low-five behind Rob’s back. You were right next to their side of the stage now and they heard you laugh at them. Turning they gave you a thumbs up and Rich looked around, leaned in to whisper something to Rob, then pulled back with a pretty evil smile.
On the other side of the stage, Jared and Jensen had returned to answering questions and you tried to pay attention to the anecdote they were sharing but you kept getting distracted and glancing back at the band, because you could feel Rob’s eyes on you. Looking around you realised that Rich had ducked behind the curtain and now he was rounding the corner of the stage on the audience level, sneaking along bent over so his head wouldn’t be seen over the side of the stage. He was coming right at you.
He stopped to check something with the volunteer that stood at your side of the stage, then continued to creep back towards you. You stood there in stunned silence as he approached with a wide, conniving smile and whispered an introduction.
“Hi there, I’m Rich.”
“H-hi,” you gulped, completely stunned that you were standing so close to an actual Supernatural actor.
“So, you’re gonna have the last question,” Rich cut straight to the point, keeping his voice down so he didn’t disturb the proceedings around him. You nearly choked on your breath.
“That, that means,” you struggled to compute for a second. “I go up there?” You pointed up to the stage where Jared and Jensen were sitting, laughing, looking like giant gods.
“Yup,” Rich popped the ‘p’ on the end of the word. “That okay with you?” You could only manage to nod. “Okay, so, we play the little jingle, the volunteer will walk you up, we’ll have a chair there with a mic, all good?” Again, you only nodded, clutching your question in your hand, eternally grateful that you had thought to write it down, and hoping the sweat pooling in your hands didn’t smudge the writing.
“One more thing,” Rich ducked his body behind yours and brought his face close enough to full-on whisper. “That dress have pockets?” Completely confused by his question you squeak out an answer.
“Yeah, why?” You felt something cold at your elbow and you looked down. Rich was sneaking you another Smirnoff Ice, indicating with his head that you should put it in your pocket.
“Think you can give that to Jared for us?”
“Oh,” you breathed out, understanding now. “Yeah, sure,” you giggled.
“Thanks kiddo,” Rich clapped his hands on your shoulders and squeezed before darting forward and launching himself back onto the stage so he could situate himself with the band.
After an exchange of looks from Jared and Jensen and back to Rob the music kicked in and you were ushered forwards by the volunteer Rich had spoken to a moment ago.
There were no real words to describe what it was like to stand right in front of Jared and Jensen. You felt like your heart had stopped and like it was beating a million times a minute at the same time. Up on the stage with lights beaming down it was even hotter than it had been in the audience, and when Jared and Jensen each placed a hand on your upper arms and guided you towards your chair and mic, it felt like their hands were burning into your skin. You almost hoped you had scars a la Dean’s from Castiel.
As you sat down, the faint buzzing that had stuffed your ears started to dissipate and you realised that Jared was talking to you.
“I’m sorry, can you say that again?” You were so embarrassed that they were affecting you like this but Jared just smiled gently, practically radiating a safe, warm encouragement.
“What’s your name darlin’,” Jared asked again.
“Oh, uh, Y/N,” your name came back to you, finally.
“And Y/N,” Jensen asked now, “what is your question?”
“Okay, um, so my question is for both of you and I’d like to extend it to Rob and Rich too if that’s okay?” You glanced around at everyone’s faces and all four seemed to be nodding their heads that that would be okay. When you looked over at the band you caught Rich’s eye and he quirked a brow at you, a small reminder of your other purpose on the stage. Clearing your throat you pulled out the your question but kept your other hand in your pocket with the cold bottle.
“But, before I ask it, I’ve been asked to give something to Jared by a friend.”
“Oh cool, what is it!” Excitement took over Jared’s face like a puppy dog who heard the word ‘treat’. That joy was quickly doused when he saw what you pulled out of your pocket. “Oh, God,” Jared pulled a hand over his face, scrubbing at his cheek adorably in annoyance.
“Sorry,” you did feel a little guilty, but mostly it was funny.
“Which one of those douches was it,” Jared pointed accusingly at Rob and Rich.
“You’re welcome!” They shouted in unison, giving Jared a big thumbs up.
“You suck,” Jared shouted, but good-naturedly sank to one knee, upending the Smirnoff Ice and draining it as quickly as possible. What made you absolutely lose your breath, and nearly your mind, is that when he dropped to his knee he used you as his brace. His long fingers wrapped almost all the way around your knee, and he squeezed gently, almost teasingly, as he gulped down the icy drink. You couldn’t take your eyes off the way his neck was pulsing as he swallowed, and a small drop of sweat was running achingly slowly down past where you knew you could find his pulse if you just reached out your fingers and touched.
When he finished, he exhaled on an over-exaggerated ‘ahh’ and his eyes locked straight with yours. He maintained eye contact, his hazel irises twinkling in the bright lights beating down on the stage, and he rose slowly back to his feet, giving your knee one last squeeze before reaching out for his microphone again.
“Now, Y/N, since we’ve got that out of the way,” Jared flared back at Rob and Rich, “what is your question?”
The rest of your time on stage was an absolute blur. Jensen answered your question first, quickly followed by Rich. Jared and Rob took a few seconds each to consider before offering their best answer and then before you could process what was happening Jensen was pulling you to your feet and wrapping you in a burning hug. Jared came around the other side and stretched his arms around both you and Jensen, briefly trapping you there between them. Then all the sudden you felt a rush of air as they pulled back and you were being ushered off to the side by a volunteer.
Your eyes took a moment to adjust back to the lack of blazing spotlights, so you kept following the volunteer without giving much thought to where she was leading you. It was a shock when you found yourself being pushed through a gap between a curtain and the wall, moving back behind the stage. A little holding area was filled with everyone who had just been on stage, and a volunteer passing around water bottles.
“Why am I back here?” You whisper shrieked at the volunteer. She laughed at you.
“You want to take a picture with the guys?”
“Oh wow, you’re not serious,” you panicked, smoothing out your hair and patting over your face, hoping your makeup hadn’t sweated off too much.
“You’ll be fine,” she laughed again, good-naturedly though. She must be used to dealing with fangirling freaks, you thought to yourself.
“Hi Y/N,” Jensen called when you were just about level with the group.
“Ready for your close-up?” Jared asked, waggling his eyebrows at you.
“Um, yeah I guess,” you gulped, trying to organise your thoughts as you followed Jared and Jensen over to where a camera tripod was set up against another wall. You were walking between them, the bare skin of your arms brushing against their hands, because they were that much taller than you. “It is so nice to meet you guys, seriously, I just want to say thank you for being like, amazing and wonderful. You’ve made such an amazing family,” you stop talking and try to rein yourself in, knowing you can’t guarantee you won’t say something monumentally embarrassing very soon.
“Well, you guys are all pretty amazing too,” Jared smiled, clapping a hand on your shoulder and giving it a comforting squeeze, clearly sensing you could do with a little calming down, not that having him touch you actually accomplished that. Your heart felt like it was trying to jump out through your throat.
“So, where do you want us?” Jensen smiled warmly at you, but there was something else peeking out from behind his bright green eyes. Mischief, maybe.
“Oh god, I don’t even know,” you tried not to giggle hysterically, which was your usual defence mechanism when you got nervous.
“It’s okay, just come over here,” Jared pushed you forwards slightly towards Jensen. They stood together, arms slung around the shoulders that were touching and pulled you in front of them. Stumbling a little, like a total idiot you berated yourself internally, you fell back against them. Assuming they’d want a little more space, you started to take a step forward but then you felt solid warmth pressing against your back. Jared and Jensen had both pulled you closer into them and they were pressing you back into their bodies. You felt more than heard a chuckle roll through Jensen’s body, and he slung his left arm around your body, settling his hand against your right shoulder. Jared mirrored him, crossing his arm over Jensen’s to hug you tighter to both of them.
“Okay, say ‘bacon’!” The photographer snapped a few photos of you all absolutely laughing your asses off, because who says ‘bacon’ when they take a photo? But as the laughter settled you felt a sense of incandescent calm spread through you. Jared and Jensen were still pressing you against them, and the laughter had broken the tension you’d been holding in your limbs, allowing you to settle into them without so many nerves.
When the photographer indicated that he was done the boys released you and each other, Jared ruffling his hair mostly to give his hands something to do. You felt more relaxed now, and a little more confident that you weren’t going to start babbling nonsense so you took a chance to ask for a favour.
“I’m gonna ask since I’m here and I know I’ll kill myself later if I don’t… Do you think it would be okay if I got a photo with the band?”
“Oh, sure, yeah,” Jensen said, obviously having expected something much more out of left field. He waved over to the guys still milling around in the holding area. “Hey, Rob, get your guys over here!”
When they were in better earshot Jared pointed his thumb at you and said, “Your new minion wants a picture.” His voice was scathing but hid his amusement pretty poorly considering he was an actor. The band plus Rich all crowded around you for a photo, going for a giant group hug approach and pulling loads of stupid faces, helping you chill out even more.
As they released you from the crush you turned back to Jared. “Sorry, again, about that,” you said, referring to passing on Rich’s prank before, and blushing a little.
“Yeah, bullshit,” Jared laughed, his eyes crinkling and fuck, why was that so sexy.
“Well did you want to give her this for your revenge Jared or…” Jensen let his thought trail off, swinging a cloudy white bottle by the neck between his thumb and a finger.
“Jay, we cannot Ice a fan,” Jared laughed exasperatedly.
“Sure we can,” Rob grabbed the drink from Jensen and tossed it at you. You screamed a little but by some miracle you caught it clumsily, clutching it to your chest to keep it from smashing to the ground.
“Y/N you really don’t have to drink that,” Jared insisted, trying to protect you from his ridiculous friends.
“No it’s okay, fair’s fair” you laughed, twisting off the cap of the cold drink, confused as to how this was your life right now. You brought the bottle to your lips, taking a moment to shoot Jared a reassuring smile because he was still looking worriedly at you. Before you managed to actually drink any of it though you heard Jensen clear his throat, and he looked pointedly from you, to the ground at your feet.
“You forgetting something?” Jensen grinned as he watched you, arms crossed over his chest. Of course, you thought, you were supposed to take a knee when you downed it.
“Someone’s bossy,” you chided, but you let yourself fall, landing on both your knees instead of just one like the challenge technically called for. Glancing up at Jensen for permission to down your drink now you saw him exchange a fleeting look with Jared. For just a moment, something had cracked through their smiling exteriors. It was dark; hungry. The change had been infinitesimal and before you could swear it had been there to begin with, their warm, encouraging smiles were back. You tipped the bottle back, keeping your eyes locked with Jensen’s the whole time, like Jared had done with you earlier on the stage.
#babypieandwhiskey#hot as hell challenge#j2 fic#spn#j2 x reader#j2 x reader fic#Jared Padalecki#Jensen Ackles#spn family#you got iced#getting iced challenge#chapter 1
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Playing the Vocals (series)
Chapter 9: Finale
Pairing: Josh x fem!Reader
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: Fluff so sweet your teeth with rot
A/N: You guys. I cannot believe this is the last part. The end of my first GVF series :( it’s bittersweet, but I want to thank every single one of you that came on this journey with me and these very dumb protagonists. I love you (and them) so much <3
Summary: The day of the competition. How will things turn out for Reader and Josh? This is the final chapter in the series, but read all the way down for a little something at the end! Eternal thanks to @sparrowof-thedawn for beta-reading this <3 and to @lover--leaver for helping me come up with the idea for this series in the first place, so many months ago <3
You set an alarm for that morning, but woke up before it went off. Josh was still sleeping soundly across from you, his arm still draped over your waist. You had fallen asleep facing each other, and it appeared that neither of you had moved in the night. Which was surprising, considering the day.
Josh stirred in his sleep and you squeezed his hand gently in response. This was enough to wake him, and he slowly opened his eyes to look at you. You watched as his mind woke up after his body did, and he realized what day it was.
You smiled, closed-mouth, exhaling a small laugh through the nose. Josh beamed at you, clasping your hand in his. Neither of you could believe it was finally time.
The competition.
….
Miss Michaels was a nervous wreck by the time she and Janet got to the performance hall. Janet trailed behind her, with an emergency bottle of wine stashed in her bag. The two women sat down in the front row, with Michaels immediately bowing her head in prayer, despite the fact that she was not a religious woman.
“Are you okay?” Janet asked, concerned. She reached for the wine in her bag, but Michaels held up a hand to stop her.
“I’m fine. I just can’t believe we’re here. Finally.”
“Yes, it is remarkable isn’t it?” Janet replied pleasantly. “You’ve all worked so hard, all for this one performance. The pressure you must be under--”
“Not helping, Janet,” Michaels interrupted through gritted teeth.
“You don’t think they’ll lose, do you? They sounded great yesterday. Besides, the entire department is just excited that you though to put those two together. They’re quite the dream team.”
“Yes,” the advisor replied, “But the judges aren’t going to care about the miracle of these kids actually cooperating. They’re going to want perfection. Our department really needs this grant.”
Janet nodded solemnly.
“And we can’t let those posers in Classical show us up,” Michaels muttered under her breath. Janet didn’t quite catch it.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
….
You were in the small women’s dressing room backstage, doing one last makeup check before heading out to the stage wings. Nerves were boiling in your stomach, churning it and giving you an uneasy feeling. But this was normal; it happened before every performance. It was just your body psyching you up in anticipation.
Your appearance in the mirror was joined by two figures coming into the room, and you turned to see Emily and Rhiannon.
“What are you guys doing here?”
“We came to wish you good luck before the competition! Not that you need it,” Emily answered.
“Aw, you guys,” you replied, moved by their consideration. Emily grinned as Rhiannon gave you a tight hug.
“You’re gonna do great,” she told you as you parted.
“Thanks, guys.” You grinned at your friends, happy to see them. Emily stepped forward to fix a few wayward strands of hair around the crown of your head.
“Break a leg, YN. You were made for this.”
You exchanged another hug with both of them before they left, and took one last moment to yourself. The version of you staring in the mirror was Stage You. Pupils wide with adrenaline, hair and makeup immaculate. The high-waisted jeans cinched at your waist and complimented the white t-shirt you stole from Josh. The look was topped off with a leather jacket.
You made your way to the side stage to find Josh and peek out at the audience. People rushed around you, moving instruments and risers. One rule of the competition was no pre-recorded music. So every act brought their own band.
The duet before you and Josh was just finishing up as you arrived. The crowd cheered and clapped, and you felt blood rushing in your ears. You could see Miss Michaels and her secretary sitting in the front row.
A few rows away from them, Emily was grabbing a seat next to Rhiannon. The latter was giggling about something with a guy that you were pretty sure was Josh’s brother. You noticed Rhi leaning over to whisper something in his ear, and briefly wondered if they were a thing.
“Hey, gorgeous,” Josh called behind you, interrupting your mindless distraction. You turned to smile at him.
“Hey.”
“You ready to show them what happens when we team up?” He asked, grinning mischievously. You laughed, nodding without hesitation.
“Hell yeah.”
The smile stuck to Josh’s face as he took your hands into his own. He stepped closer to you and pressed his forehead against yours. You each breathed slowly, deliberately, until your breaths were evenly paced with one another. You were steady and concentrated.
You shared a quiet moment there backstage, in the midst of the chaos, before someone called your last names. Josh squeezed your hands before releasing them, and kissed you softly on the cheek.
The presenter announced your names to the crowd, and you strode onto the stage. Josh was right behind you, laughing and waving to the crowd. He was a natural.
But when he took the microphone off its stand, his hand shook a little. A little bit of restless energy, and a little bit of nerves. You felt it, too.
The backing band started up, with the drummer tapping out his one, two, three, four. Then Jake started in with the guitar riff, and the crowd began to cheer already. It seemed he was popular on all fronts.
It had been Josh’s idea to invite Jake to do the guitar for your performance. The piece needed a little bit of rock ‘n’ roll added to it.
Animal was a pop song, after all.
The blood rushing in your ears came to a crescendo just as Jake’s riff segued into the first lines. You took a deep, diaphragmatic breath, and looked over at Josh.
The moment you saw him open his mouth to sing, the noise faded away. The audience, the judges, the nerves, all disappeared. And when Josh looked at you, he grinned around his lines. It was the same for him.
You blacked out for most of the performance, as you usually did. You were pretty sure Josh had, too. But you had practiced so many times, that the performance was learned down to muscle memory.
You and Josh nailed every second of it. Every note, every line, every cue. Your voices blended and complemented each other just like they had that first day in practice. But this time, your hard work paid off, with everything sounding more refined. It was pop, it was rock. It was perfect.
You and Josh concluded the song with Jake’s guitar wailing and the drum cymbals crashing behind you. You didn’t need to look at the audience to know they were going wild. When you glanced down at the judges’ panel, they were exchanging comments with impressed expressions. Behind them, Miss Michaels could be seen visibly mouthing the words, Thank God.
Looking back up at Josh, you grinned and laughed. He looked just as elated as you felt. It had been the perfect duet, made even better by the perfect duo.
The two of you pushed the mics back onto their stands, and strolled off stage hand-in-hand. Someone handed Josh flowers, and he passed them to you. He then surprised you by picking you up and spinning you around in circles.
“That was fucking perfect,” he breathed, as you giggled into his shoulder. You pulled back to kiss him deeply for just a moment, holding onto him tightly.
Your kiss was disrupted by the sharp voice of your advisor.
“Oh, I knew it!”
You separated from Josh to see a triumphant Miss Michaels coming into the side stage. She didn’t look upset in the least. Behind her, Janet was clapping enthusiastically.
“Miss Michaels, we--” Josh started, but Michaels held up a hand to stop him. It worked, as it always did, and Josh closed his mouth automatically.
“No need to defend yourself, Mr. Kiszka. I’m happy for you two. And I’ll accept any reason that keeps you from hating each other. Now come along, they’ll be announcing winners soon.”
As you and Josh followed Michaels and Janet back onto the stage to join the throng of vocalists, he took your hand again. His palm was sweaty, but so was yours, and you were both shaking a little from the excitement of it all.
It occurred to you in that moment that it didn’t really matter to you whether you won, or not. You had everything you needed. Friends, music, Josh. Just then, it felt like those were the only things you needed to persist. So you gripped Josh’s hand tighter, and waited patiently for the judges to give you their decision.
Whatever it was, you would be okay.
Taglist: @lover--leaver, @myownparadise96, @satans-helper, @songbirdkisses, @bluewillowmom, @sweetkiszkadreams, @mountainofthesunn, @kissthesun-fightthefire, @chestinfect-me, @ohsososophisticatedd, @seven-seas-of-hi, @garbagevanfleet
PSYCH THERE’S AN EPILOGUE BITCHES
Epilogue
“Babe, where does this one go?”
You kicked the front door shut behind you, carrying in the last box from the U-Haul. Josh was in the living room, amongst a sea of cardboard cubes, trying to push the couch against the wall.
“Kitchen!” He called, letting out a grunt as he finally got the couch into place. You chuckled at the disgruntled look on his face, and set the box on the kitchen counter.
“You okay there?”
“Yes,” he replied indignantly. You grinned and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. Skipping to the living room, you handed it to him with a sweet smile.
“Thanks, glory.”
“Of course. Remind me again why your brothers couldn’t help us move?”
“Because Sam and Rhi are on a camping trip with Danny and his new girl. And Jake just sucks,” Josh answered with a roll of his eyes.
You chuckled, not minding it all. You had asked mostly out of curiosity. Moving in together was a big step, and you were okay with having Josh all to yourself that day.
….
“No, put it in the middle.”
“But I like the way it shines with the sunlight from the window! So sparkly.”
“Josh, I’m serious,” you giggled, pointing for emphasis. Josh gave an exaggerated sigh and adjusted the object on the mantelpiece as you directed. When its placement was satisfactory, he turned to you, grinning. You opened your arms and welcomed him into them.
The two of you stood there, in your new living room, enjoying the space and the silence. Sure, the apartment wasn’t much to write home about. But it was yours.
Josh pulled back, beaming at you.
“Happy Anniversary, glory.”
“Happy Anniversary, Josh.”
….
“I told you it looked better in the middle,” you said, raising an eyebrow smugly. You were curled into Josh’s side on the couch, opposite the fireplace and mantelpiece. You had taken a break from packing to relax for a bit. Josh shook his head, but he was smiling.
“You are so stubborn.”
“Yeah? Whatcha gonna do about it, Kiszka?”
Josh answered by pushing you over and kissing your neck. He tickled you, too, laughing against your skin as you squealed. But one kind of fun turned into another, and before long you were a writhing tangled mess there on the couch. Across from you, situated in the middle of the mantel above the fireplace, was the trophy you’d won together a year ago.
Pairs competition. First place.
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Forty-Seven G [Part 2 of 3]
"Hot thing, barely twenty-one
Hot thing, looking for big fun
Hot thing, what's your fantasy?
Hot thing, do you want to play with me?"
Prince – "Hot Thing"
Summary: Erik Killmonger runs into his favorite flight attendant again. Payback is not always a bitch...
Mature Content. Smut.
Fa'aana stood in the aisle of the business class section of the plane watching passengers board at a snail's pace. She scratched the back of her neck while keeping an eye out for people who needed help.
The last few days had been a breeze with the flight team she was working with. Mark, Mavis, Lucy, and herself were in sync and had the uncanny ability to anticipate what they all needed from each other at any given moment. The long haul they were about to embark on from Italy back to Atlanta was going to be packed. When she checked the passenger manifest, there were only about seven open seats available.
She and Mark were able to catch a fantastic brunch at the hotel they stayed overnight in while on a layover in Rome. Munching on a croissant with a thick smothering of Nutella and the best espresso ever, she detailed the birthday dinner she had with Hugh back in the states.
Mark didn't seem impressed, and after sharing the deets, she realized it was a pretty poor date. They visited the Atlanta aquarium first because she loved the place, but Hugh gave off bored vibes so they left early. The restaurant he made reservations for had pretty bland food despite the expensive menu and all the hype she had heard about it. The strip club he took her to afterward that she was excited about going to wasn't as impressive as she had hoped. The exotic dancers were athletic and did amazing things on the pole, but all the music sounded the same and all the women looked cut from the same cloth: Ultra-colorful wigs. Overly injected ass cheeks and breasts augmented into unnatural sizes and shapes that looked uncomfortable. Plus, all the bored facial expressions.
She wanted a sexy good time that would lead to some amazing sex with Hugh, but instead, he served her mediocre peen. Bad food, bad company, and bad sex. Ugh.
The only highlight of her birthday was finding herself on the lap of a stranger getting fingered on the back of the plane almost a week ago. Forty-Seven G. Erik from Oakland. Thinking of him made her nipples perk up. She hadn't cum like that since…wow, when had she ever cum like that? It was explosive. Primal. It felt like he was introducing her to her own vagina for the first time.
She sighed thinking about him.
After he made her cum, she had to go into the lavatory and change her panties from the fresh pack she had in her carry-on stored in the galley. She wanted to reciprocate the pleasure back to him, but Mark had woken up and they had to prep for the breakfast run before landing and serve a few early coffees and juices. She felt bad because his erection was something she wanted to see and touch.
Before Erik left the plane, she had given him her number because he had promised to send her a picture of himself at the wedding he was attending. Two days later, as promised, a number she didn't recognize popped up on her phone with two attachments. One was a picture of Erik smiling with a bride and groom, and the other was a candid shot of Erik straightening his bow tie.
He was disgustingly photogenic, and she wished she had never asked for a picture because now she would be stuck with a memory of a man she would never see again. He knew how to wear a tux, and he knew how to serve face for the camera. And those damn dimples. Yummy.
She texted the number back thanking him for the picture and she was so glad that she hadn't sent anything else beyond that message because the response she got back was not from Erik, but from a woman who said he asked her to send the pictures. So much for that. He didn't want her to have his number apparently.
She did catch herself staring at the pictures every now and then, and then she would get a shiver up her spine thinking of his lips and his fingers…
"If there are some open seats available, do you think I could move to one of them?"
Fa'aana was broken from her thoughts of Erik and found herself staring into the eyes of a pink-faced older man who seemed disgusted that he had to sit next to a couple with a small child that looked to be about five.
"Once everyone is seated and we know our final headcount, I will let you know," she said.
"Thank you," he said glaring at the couple.
She was tempted to ignore him and pretend they were full even if they weren't. The child had been nothing but quiet and polite since she was placed in her seat. Some people just hated children for no reason.
Fa'aana saw Lucy waving to her from the first-class section. She made her way up the aisle to see what Lucy needed.
"Do you mind taking this and storing it in the back? All the bins up here are filled up."
"No, problem," Fa'aana said grabbing a small roller bag.
The hairs on her neck stood up when she saw Erik walk aboard. The same round black shades, a magenta jacket over a white t-shirt and gray jeans, and that same swagger. He was with a light-skinned Black woman and a white man waiting to head into the first-class section.
"Fa'anna, one more small bag, please. Thanks," Lucy said.
Erik turned his head when he heard her name. She couldn't see his eyes behind the dark frames. There was no hint of recognition really, not even a smile. He heard her name, turned to look at her and then kept it moving up into first.
Oh, it's like that?
Fa'aana headed to the rear of the plane with the bags feeling a bit vexed. The least he could've done was given a head nod or even a "W'sup." Nothing. Nada. Zilch. A cursory glance and then he was stepping. That's why she didn't fuck with young dudes. That man had played all up in her pussy, watched her face and thighs have an intense orgasm too, and he walked by her like he didn't know her.
Well. Be honest. He didn't know her. He probably didn't expect to see her again either. And if the roles were reversed, what would she say to him?
Let it be.
Fa'aana found space for the bags and went back to Lucy to inform her of the aisle numbers so the passengers would know where to retrieve them. She saw the back of Erik's head in first-class. He was seated next to the light-skinned woman who was having a heated conversation with the white man who came with them and was seated behind them.
"My oh my," Lucy said giving Fa'aana a look.
"What's up?"
"A little lovers spat," Lucy said glancing back over at Erik and his companions.
"The Black guy and woman—"
"No. The woman next to him is with the white guy behind her. She made the Black guy switch seats with the white guy."
Fa'aana saw Erik talking to the woman and she was shaking her head and pointing her finger at the man behind her. It was difficult to hear anything from them clearly, but it sounded like Erik was saying "Not my problem."
"Hopefully they simmer down soon," Lucy said.
Fa'aana nodded, but her eyes were still on Erik's face. Mark strolled up to them.
"So we have seven open seats available, three in the back, and four in business," he said.
"Be discreet, but if two of you want to fill in the seats in the back, do it," Lucy said.
"Cool," Fa'aana said taking one last look at Erik, then heading back to her station.
Turbulence.
They hit some on the way out of Italy and had to endure more as they passed over France. Fa'aana and the other flight attendants had to wait to do snack and beverage runs. By the time they were halfway over France, the airstream was smooth again.
They made swift work of giving out snacks and libations. She moved the pink-faced complainer to another seat and helped an elderly passenger up to the business class restroom and back. By the time the dinner run was complete two hours later and cleaned up, she was able to kick back for a moment and rub her feet. She snagged an empty aisle seat in fifty-seven G but had to keep getting up for some wine thirsty passengers.
She was mixing a Bloody Mary when she heard a soft "Hey."
Glancing up she saw Erik leaning against a panel next to one of the lavatories. Dark glasses off, his face looked soft and open. She stared at him for a moment.
"Just a sec," she said moving past him to deliver the drink in her hand.
She felt her heart do a little double time. When she turned to walk back to the galley, he was watching her approach. She stepped past him and moved further into the galley. Mavis was in a seat in business class and Mark was sitting on the other side in seat fifty-two A. She had the galley to herself. Normally she would tell passengers they couldn't be near the galley. But this was different.
"Thanks for the pictures," she said trying to figure out the best opening.
"The wedding was great," he said.
Standing near him was so different than when they had been sitting next to each other, and when she had been sprawled across his lap. He towered over her…
"When you came aboard, I thought you didn't recognize me," she said, "is it the hair?"
She twirled a finger into her thick twist out hairstyle.
"Nah, I wouldn't forget you, trust," he drawled out, "I was just caught up with some drama."
"That's what I hear," she said.
"Whatchu hear?"
"The woman you were with seemed upset about something. You had to switch seats."
"Yeah, Chloe. My Ex."
"Who is the guy with you two?"
"Her boyfriend."
"What? Oh, I need to hear this," she said. She gave him a friendly smile. He moved in closer so that he was no longer near the two lavatories. She could really feel his height now. The vibratory hum of the plane masked their conversation.
"Nah, this shit is boring—"
"To you maybe. You go to friend's wedding and your ex-Girlfriend is there with her current boyfriend…and now the three of you are bosom buddies riding in first-class together. Yeah, total dullsville."
He laughed.
"Ain't no bosom buddies—"
"Speak then. How long ago has she been your Ex?"
"A year—"
"Wait, how old is she?"
"Twenty-four."
"How old is he?"
"Thirty."
"So, what happened?"
"First of all, it wasn't a surprise that she was going to be at this wedding. My boy already let me know that she was going to be there with her new man. She and I been cool for a minute, so it wasn't like shit was going to pop off when we saw each other. She introduced me to her man and everything was cool breezy y'know, mellow and shit. Wedding was dope as hell. But I notice that her man is making these reckless comments about her that I don't think is cool. Like he's saying shit to try and fit in because the majority of the people there are Black—"
"What was he saying?"
"Dumb shit not even worth repeating. So I pull her aside and tell her that I think her man is only with her because she's Black, but the type of Black that white guys like—"
"Which is?"
"Ambiguous Black women. Light bright, wavy hair…but this dude has a thing for big asses too….which I can understand…but still, I was getting fetish vibes. She and I have always been 100 with one another so I felt comfortable giving her my opinion. She didn't believe me so I just let it go."
His voice was getting heated telling the story. His facial expressions were interesting to watch.
"We're all doing the wedding party stuff and having a good time for four days. But then last night, she gets drunk and they start arguing over some personal shit, and my name gets thrown in there and he accuses her of wanting to sleep with me. I have no interest in her whatsoever. She's an Ex for a hella good reason…"
He shook his head.
"You don't need to hear all this boring ass shit. They got issues and I'm not going back up there until they go to sleep or something."
"You better go back up there and enjoy your first class—"
"I didn't pay for that. She upgraded my ticket, and that just added fuel to the fire. I was hoping to eat my fancy food and mind my business, but they kept at it."
"You can't stand for seven hours."
"Any open seats back here?"
"There's an aisle seat that's open. There's a man in the window seat—"
"Show me," he said.
She moved past him and pointed out the aisle seat that she had vacated.
"Yo, my man, you want to switch seats? You can have my first-class spot."
The passenger who had been trying to get comfortable against the window looked shocked.
"Are you serious?" he asked.
Erik handed him his first-class ticket receipt. Fa'aana nodded to the passenger.
"Wow, thanks a lot buddy," the man said as he stood up and took the ticket stub.
"Enjoy," Erik said.
"That was nice of you," she said.
"Be right back, I need to get my computer bag."
She watched him walk the long trek up to first-class. A passenger requested her assistance and she tended to them, bringing another blanket and a bottle of water.
She was making herself a cup of tea when Erik slipped back into the galley to stand near her.
"All good?"
"They sleep. Didn't even see me leave."
"Nice."
"How was your birthday dinner with your boyfriend?"
"Trash."
He laughed and she laughed with him. She ran it down for him without mention of the bad sex and he shook his head.
"You went to the wrong strip club, Ma. I know some places down there you should go to."
"You going to take me?"
"Next time I roll through."
"Hit me up then."
She waited to see how he would react to that.
"I got your number, girl."
"Alright. We'll see," she said.
She turned and sprinkled a sugar packet into her tea and she felt him get close behind her, his body heat radiating into her back. He leaned down to her ear.
"I ain't forgot about the last time I saw you," he whispered.
She closed her eyes and put down the tea. Sweet cornrowed Jesus.
"Erik, I'm working."
"You were working last time too—"
"Erik!"
He jerked back from her when he heard the shrill female voice.
"Chloe," he said stepping out of the galley and back into the aisle.
Fa'aana ducked her head out and sipped on her tea. Chloe's face was flush, her lank dark hair swept to one side of her left shoulder. Her thick lips were curled up into a scowl.
"You just let some strange man come sit next to me?" she hissed to Erik.
He pulled her closer to the lavatories and the galley.
"I'm not tryna hear your bullshit, Chloe. I said what I had to say and I'm done—"
"No, we're not done. Come back to the front—"
"Nah—"
Chloe clutched at Erik's arm.
Fa'aana stepped forward using her trained de-escalation voice.
"Ma'am, I'm going to need for you to go take your seat."
"You just mind your damn business. Go serve some coffee or something," Chloe said with a clipped voice.
"Don't talk to Fa'aana like that—"
"You know this bitch?" Chloe said stepping toward Fa'aana like she was ready to throw hands.
Fa'aana felt her neck tilt.
This heffa could catch some hands…
Erik stepped in front of Chloe.
"Take your ass back to your seat."
Fa'aana and Chloe both heard the rumble in his voice. It made Chloe's face switch up real quick and Fa'aana's knees quake.
"Erik, baby, I just want to talk…"
Chloe's tone had shifted. Coquettish. Soft. Pacifying. She was trying to wrap him around her finger. Fa'aana wanted him to wrap his hand around her own throat and choke her slowly while talking forcefully like that again. She imagined him bending her over—
Erik's eyes swept back to look at her.
"Sorry about this," he said. His face looked tired like he had been dealing with Chloe and her boyfriend all day and he was just weary of it. A passenger light signal went off and Fa'aana was happy for the distraction.
"I'll need you both to return to your seats please," she said in her professional voice. She left them to go tend to the service call.
A woman with a French accent wanted water for some aspirin she was taking. Fa'aana went to retrieve it and across the aisle, she saw Erik walking back to first-class with Chloe.
Sitting in the aisle seat, Fa'aana started a game of Blackjack on the vid screen in front of her. The cabin had quieted down and she could finally rest her feet after completing several walk-throughs checking on passengers. Most were asleep or trying to sleep.
"Mind if I sit in my seat?"
Erik watched her face as her finger lingered on the vid screen. She started to scoot over.
"I want the window," he said.
She stood up and let him haul his body over to the window. He took off his jacket and sat it on his lap.
"Sorry about that Chloe shit," he said.
"Already forgotten," she said starting a new game on the vid screen.
He reached for her hand on the screen and held it.
"Nah, for real. That wasn't cool."
"So that's the type of women you go for?"
"Chloe is a little hot-headed—"
"Entitled—"
"That too sometimes."
"What did you ever see in her?"
"She's fine—"
"Typical—"
"Typical? Men like fine women. Physical beauty is what we see first. Straight up."
Fa'aana rolled her eyes.
"Women do it too. Don't act like y'all don't check for fine niggas," he said.
"Why did you break up with her? That sparkling personality of hers didn't keep your interest?"
Erik's eyes dropped to his hands.
"She's looking for a husband, picket fence, kids, all that rah rah. I felt like she was grooming me to take home to her parents. I'm too young for all that. I got shit to do and I have my own timetable for how I want my life to proceed. She didn't respect that. Got a little pushy so I bounced."
"What's your timetable?"
"Finish grad school. Then I'm going into the Navy. Become a Seal—"
"Wait, grad school and then the Navy? You don't strike me as a military man."
"I graduated from Annapolis before going to M.I.T. Been training for this life for a minute."
His eyes were so focused when he talked about his plans. She noticed a silver chain around his neck with a heavy and expensive-looking silver-black ring on it. She reached out and touched it and his hand shot out to pull it away from her.
"Sorry. I should've asked to touch it. It's beautiful."
His hand released her hand and she turned the ring with her fingers.
"It belonged to my father. He was killed when I was younger."
"Sorry to hear that, Erik. What language is this writing on it?"
"Wakandan. East Africa. My father was from there."
His demeanor became somber. This was something painful for him. She released the necklace and he tucked it inside of his shirt. They were silent together for a moment. She stepped away from her seat to go check the galley and to see if any passengers made any service calls. There were none and hadn't been any for a long time. The people in front of them and across from them were knocked out with headphones on and movies playing.
Back at the seat, Erik had fired up his own game. When she plopped down next to him, he seemed more cheerful.
"I didn't think I would run into you again," he said.
"Me neither, but there was always the small chance."
"You were hoping to see me, huh?"
Her lips curled up in a sly smile.
"You can admit it. I wanted to see you again myself. You been on my mind the whole time I was in Rome…"
She felt herself getting warm again. His voice was low and he was giving her bedroom eyes that she couldn't resist. He lifted up the middle armrests.
"C'mere," he said reaching for her.
"Erik, there are too many people—"
"Give me those pretty lips, girl…"
Her body ignored her brain, and she was scooting over to him and giving up her mouth freely.
"Hmmm, you taste so sweet," he said. He sucked on her tongue, the cranberry and apple tea was still strong on her breath. His right hand reached up and touched her blouse, his fingers feeling for her left breast. He tweaked her nipple and then his whole hand squeezed her plum-sized breast. He released her lips from his and his forehead pressed against hers.
"Open this up," he breathed out to her.
She didn't move.
"We're good, no one is paying attention. I want to touch you. Let me touch you," he whispered. His full lips were taunting her. He was nothing but trouble. Good trouble.
She allowed her fingers to open only four buttons, just enough to let him get his hand inside. He opened a fifth button himself and thrust his warm hand down on her. The thin silk of her bra cup was forced aside so that his fingers found her pebbled nipple. He pinched it and she gasped.
"Erik…"
His fingers went to her other nipple and plucked at it. His mouth found hers again and he pulled her closer to his side. He tongued her down until her toes had curled and uncurled several times. He released her lips and she felt breathless. His hand reached under his jacket.
"You owe me," he said. She saw him tugging on himself under the jacket. She squirmed in her seat, her hips rotating slowly from need. He pushed his jacket aside and unfastened his jeans.
"Play with my dick."
Her hand slid down and reached for his pants.
"I want to see you pull it out."
She used both hands, one to pull back his boxers, the other to release the bulge that waited for her. When she gripped his erection, he let out a soft groan.
"Soft ass hands…"
She pulled out his dick. It was so heavy and so full of heat. Fuck. The weight of it made her mouth water. She stroked him.
"Ooh, yeah, just like that. Keep doing that."
She circled the head with her fingers and he widened his legs pulling down on his boxers so that his balls were accessible for her too. His fat sack was so hot to the touch.
"Stroke that shit. Make me feel it, Ma."
She whimpered, fisting him just under the mushroom head, hitting his frenulum and twisting her fingers a bit.
"How you know my spot already, girl?" he gasped, shifting in his seat. Beads of pre-cum seeped out and dripped on her fingers. She played with it and rolled it across the wide head. His slit leaked more.
"You want to taste me? Go 'head, put your mouth on that shit," he said.
She lowered her head and licked the clear fluid. More spilled out and she gobbled it up.
"Stick your tongue on that hole…yeah…just like that…I got some more for you."
She squeezed the head and his natural lubricant trickled out onto her wet tongue. She smacked her lips and looked up at him.
"Let me stretch that mouth," he said. She moaned. She cared about nothing else at that moment. They could fire her for all she cared. She just needed this man's fast ass cock in her mouth.
He thrust up his hips and the bulbous head touched her lips. She opened as wide as she could and took him in. His lips pressed together tightly as he swallowed a deep groan. Her head bobbed in his lap and his left hand hovered above her hair, touching her head and pushing down when he wanted her to go deeper...harder.
When she raised up to catch her breath after she started gagging, he pulled on her hair. He gripped his dick and squeezed the head so that his wide slit opened.
"Spit on my dick," he said.
She swirled her tongue in her mouth collecting saliva and spit on the head making his dick sloppy wet.
"You like being nasty, huh? Spit on it again, bitch."
She felt her stomach twist up and a strong pulse made her pussy throb from his words. She spit on his dick again and then he was shoving it back in her mouth. He reached for his jacket and used it to cover her lower half. His left hand frantically raised up her skirt and then shoved down into her stockings. She wiggled her hips so that his fingers could reach her panties and soaked folds.
"Damn…you know how to suck dick…swallow this shit baby…yeah… keep going…keep going…"
Her folds were so wet and her pussy so engorged, he was able to slip his fingers in and out with ease. He flicked her clit in a delicious rhythm and she felt an orgasm building. He was making her work her neck out as he fucked her face trying his best to keep quiet. He was beginning to inhale with harsh sounds.
"I'm 'bout to feed you, girl. You betta swallow this nut—"
That's all it took. Her release was tight on his fingers, her walls throbbing with intense pleasure that made her skin tingle.
"Ohhhhhh…" Erik groaned, his legs seizing up tight as a hot load of cum shot up into her mouth. His dick swelled in her mouth and she felt it spasm several times. She swallowed what she could and then had to let him go because she was choking on his girth.
"Damn, girl, damn."
She held onto his cock as a final stream of creamy white spilled out from him. He looked down at his dick.
"Clean me up. Lick all that shit up."
She did what she was told to do. His fingers were still inserted in her pussy. And she was grateful for his touch.
"Fuck, that was a lot," he said.
She giggled and sat up. He re-fastened his pants. She fixed her skirt and buttoned up her blouse. He stuck two of his fingers in her mouth.
"You suck dick like a champ. World class head game, baby."
She circled her tongue around his fingers then pulled them out, licking up and down each digit.
"You should be ashamed of yourself. Sucking dick on the job…"
"That's good customer service," she quipped.
"You right, Ma. Serving excellence. I'ma tell your boss to give you a raise when I leave."
She felt her face flatten.
"What's wrong?"
She shook her head and pulled back from him. Passengers around them were still knocked out.
"Hey, Fa'aana, w'sup?"
Stupid. It was stupid. She was catching feelings.
"I need to freshen up," she said.
He pulled her in tight and fast.
"I'm feeling you too, Ma."
When his lips pressed into hers and she gave into his tongue and the heat of his mouth, she knew he wasn't lying.
Forty-Seven G [Part 1] Forty-Seven G [Part 2] Forty-Seven G [Part 3]
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Black Sun Tale | Bread and Water
Remember that this is only a first draft with minor edits, but have fun reading! Comments and reception is greatly appreciated!
---
“What I came up with today? Uh…,” Flipped some pages, “I came up with two new characters earlier?”
The city streets screeched with traffic noise and crowds chattering, smoke surrounding the air with a bar across the avenue.
“Gabriel’s story’s kinda sad. He killed this guy named Wren, but they were like brothers.”
Off between two aged buildings, an alleyway poked out with barely any notice.
“He hates Zero- or Hiro now though. He’s the reason why Wren went crazy.”
The interior of the alley carried a scattered mess of blankets, journals, calendars, along with other miscellaneous things. Though a single journal stuck to being held, firm by the grasps of a boy.
His sickly pale skin complemented his unkempt and grimy black hair. While his twig body shivered by the gentle cold. His boney fingers pointed at drawings from his one of many journals towards the girl next to him. “That’s Gabe when he got mad at Dannie after finding out.” His voice rasped.
Observing the girl’s reaction, her expression perked to something of confusion. “How did Wren and Gabe get to that situation though?”
He rolled his eyes to the side. “I haven’t gotten that much into the backstory. But all I know is that they both got into a mess like Evie or Lucia.” Blinked twice. “It’s just that while Evie was mad at becoming a slave, Gabriel was mad because his entire life’s purpose was taken away from him… and he’s in denial about it being kinda his fault too.”
Her cocoa hair blocked the faces she made from the boy’s slouched position on the ground. However, she chirped up quickly enough. “Ayu, I’m really digging Gabriel right now.”
“Really,” Ayu questioned, sitting back up a little the process. “I thought he was kinda basic.”
“Yeah,” she turned her floor seat towards him, revealing her fair complexion made out of light makeup. “From what you told me so far. I’m guessing he’s being ignorant of his past mistakes completely and letting out all his anger to someone else, right? At least from what I can tell in this picture.”
“I guess so?”
“Okay, I didn’t screw up on reading the comic panel,” making a small clap with her hands. “That can be realistic if you do it right, but you can also mix in a theme with that-”
“Annette. No,” Ayu interrupted her. “When you talk about ‘theme’ and that stuff, I get more of a headache than every other minute of life,” he groaned.
“Do you want me to get you some ibuprofens?”
“I’m fine.”
Annette nodded. “Well other than that, I still feel bad for Hiro,” she pouted.
Ayu lifted a brow and eyed her. “He’s the one who trapped ten kids in a death maze.”
“But he’s trying to get better!”
He scoffed, “He still did bad things, that’s why Evie treated him like shit afterwards.”
“You’re the one giving him a redemption arc though?”
“I’m just trying to stay close to the original idea.” Ayu closed the book and chuck it to the side. “Even if I don’t really believe in it.”
Annette’s lips twitched. “He’s just trying to be a better person than before…”
“He was still a dick. Out of anything, you should be feeling bad for Wren.”
“How so?”
Ayu set his arms back. “He was lied to for most of his life and he only got killed in the end for having a different opinion, pretty much.”
“So, he’s pretty much a pity party?” Annette eyed him. Ayu already knew what she was telling with her expression.
“No. He just go fucked over too much because of both Gabriel and Zero.”
Annette rolled a shoulder, pulling back her hair in the process. “I guess I like all of them, anyways. I’m just still hoping you can pull it off well.” Her lashes fluttered in the dim lights. “Did you come up with Gabriel and Wren from your dreams again?”
Ayu hummed. “Kinda. I had a random dream last night where a guy shoots another guy with an arrow but gets sad about it. That’s how I got Wren’s death.”
“Anything else from it?”
“There was a bit more, but it’s blurry.”
“Any others dream while I haven’t been here,” She asked.
Ayu blinked. “I just have that, some girl screwing herself over and getting her friend dead, then nothing.”
Annette hesitated with her words. “No dreams of Lillie?”
Ayu paused, seeing Annette flinch from her own question. He buried his hands in his hoodie pockets and looked down. “… None of those.”
She apologized with her eyes narrowed. The area went silent for the two. A minute? Two? Ayu couldn’t tell. He could barely count with patience.
“How long have you been here?”
“Huh? About an hour, I think…” She brought her phone to her view, checking the time. “God, we spent a lot of time goofing off.”
“You have homework, don’t you? You should go home, school’s tomorrow anyways.”
“… Right.” Annette stood up, her tall figure looming before Ayu. A second of standing still, she face-palmed herself. “Oh god, I have three projects to do.”
“Then get on to it,” Ayu joked.
“Yeah, yeah.” Annette grabbed back her already cleaned up board game and binder. “I’ll see you another time then.”
Before taking a turn back home, a “Bye” could be heard quietly over a car honking.
Ayu studied the outside of the alleyway in silence. Every second brought a new face passing by, and it brought the reminder that no one noticed him staring. A child, a couple, a group of teens, they all went their own ways, not even taking a glance of something that’s nonexistent for them.
The boy groaned, turning back and plopping his head to a pillow, gifted by Annette. As he slammed his body to the ground, the rough concrete hit him back. He winced like every other day when he fell over from exhaustion. Though, the routine of his ‘home’ was redundant.
He muttered in his own silence, “Ow.”
At least he had a pillow unlike the first two years of four when living in the alleyway.
Laying down, still and blank, Ayu sighed and grabbed his journal from the side again. He flipped through the thin paper, skimming past the art he made, and stopped at the next blank page. He crawled to grab the pencil he left on the other side of the alley earlier in the day, and crawled back to his pillow to write:
October 21st 201X
Came up with new caracters today, dont know what to do
Did noting else today, like usuel
I got a litle mad at Annette, probly was a bad idea
No monsters, No Akeldama
As Ayu moved his arms to store the book away, a voice halted him.
“Looks like you’ll be having an insipid time again.”
Ayu jumped, sitting immediately and twisting his head around. Finding nothing, he sighed, “Speak of the Devil…” He then crossed out the note of ‘No Akeldama’ for the day.
“Did you miss me from last time?”
Ayu leaned back to the rigid wall, conversing with the voice ringing across his head. “Just tell me what the hell is going on,” he groaned.
“Oh child, you won’t be getting that anytime soon for sure,” The voice mocked him.
“You’ve been telling that to me for how long?”
“I don’t know in all honestly, I’ve lost track of time after my first hundred years.”
Ayu leered at nothing. “Four years, Akeldama. Four years.”
“Ah right, you’re twelve now, correct?”
“Yeah. Turned twelve last June.”
“Well, aside from that, have you met any new people?”
Ayu sighed. “I haven’t, luckily.”
“What a pity,” Akeldama sneered, “You were the kid that pouted about being lonely, yet once you get a friend, you don’t even want another one anymore.”
“Shut up.”
“You’re just a greedy brat.”
“What do you want now Akeldama?” Ayu’s mind raced quickly, his heart beating rapidly.
“I was simply here to check if you were the same as before, which you are by the way,” he muttered. “Though I’m also here for something else on the matter of you.”
“Dear god, what now?”
“Funny calling me ‘god’,” he chuckled, “but I think you’ll soon meet somebody you’ll get along with.”
“Wait…,” Ayu murmured. His eyes widened. “Akeldama don’t tell me-”
“You’ll be having fun for the next few months. I promise,” he reassured him.
“You fucker,” Ayu yelled, slamming his fists onto the hard ground. Though, he brought both of them up immediately from the pain, gasping at the impact of the floor cracking. He held both tightly against one another as they both burned.
“God, damn it Akeldama…”
No reply.
Ayu placed his head down into his knees and closed his eyes. His boney joints pressed against his forehead. Two deep breaths, then hold.
He pulled his head back after seconds, groaning, “Why did I decide to go through with this…?”
Ayu’s eyes flutter back open as his stomach made a painful growl.
“Right…” He clicked against his chapped lips. “When was the last time I ate?”
The growl reminded him of the stomach pain from recent days, aching as he puckered. The pain bothered him, but Annette already left to his dismay.
“I need to get food now then,” he muttered to himself.
He hopped up from his sitting position, his bone-thin legs freezing up from the cold. Exiting the alleyway, Ayu turned to the grocery store route.
He pulled up his hoodie quickly, his tired eyes being protected from the soft light. And he ventured out to treat himself to food and water rations.
*
A jug of water and a bag of bread, Ayu repeated to himself multiple times.
The shop held multiple items to Ayu’s attention. Aisles carried shiny toys, colorful pencils and journals, to junk food and candy. Ayu stared at the chips bar, slurping up the slight drool dripping out of him. He shook his head. Bread and water. Bread and water.
How long had it been for the boy to have a nice meal? When was the last time he had the sweets he loved?
Bread and water.
When was his last chip binge? His coloring book sessions and playtime?
Stop being a bitch and get what you need already. He scolded in his head.
He dashed to an unfamiliar aisle so his mind wouldn’t get dragged elsewhere. Stacks and piles of paper towels and toilet paper surrounded him through his short walk to the bakery. His head bobbed in a sigh that he didn’t need anything of such thanks to shop bathrooms and recreation center showers.
However, as soon as he exited the aisle, aromas of pastries and baked goods filled his senses. He ignored it since the shop’s goods were usually too sweet for him despite his tooth. Walking down, he read through the brands of bread, squinted his eyes to spell and read out some words himself. It was only until his found a decent bag of bread rolls did he go off to the drinks section.
The sodas and fizzy pops caught eyes of most, though Ayu’s tongue had more of a distaste for it. He turned from the bright and dazzling colors to the row of water jugs. His memory of measurements buzzed in his mind, though not enough to remember how much a liter was compared to a gallon.
After staring, his mind boggling on which was which, Ayu gave up and choose which one seemed like the largest.
Ayu ended up carrying the bread rolls in one hand and the three-gallon jug of water with the other by his stick arms. He walked out of the aisle, closing in on the exit.
He stepped with hesitant feet. His head twisted and turned to assure nobody near him. A single bump from someone else and he could be done for the day.
He swept through the cashiers. His scattered gaze wandered through all of them left and right. But in a single heartbeat, his body already went passed them unlike his mind.
Ayu sighed and took a step towards the store exit. His guilt cultivated him like every other time he’s done this. It’s better for me. Even if I don’t actually need it-
A grip of a hand pulled him back from leaving. Ayu’s heart froze as his breath started to stutter immediately. He turned slowly, and echo of a voice ringing loudly to him. I’m fucked.
“Hey…” He saw the face of the one who grabbed him by the arm. He was around the same age as him, younger maybe, but shorter for sure. “Hey…” His light brown skin shined by the store’s lights along with the freckles dotted around his nose and cheeks. While his soft green eyes glared at him in confusion. His dark red hair was also a first for Ayu to see-
“Hey!” the kid repeated himself. Ayu blinked spastically, his breathing still frigid. “What are you doing with that?”
---
Ten Dollars | Next>>>
#writing#my writing#writeblr#writblr#writers on tumblr#black sun tale#bst#chapter 2#starvation warning#swearing warning#emotional abuse#minor on the last part though#bst ayu#bst annette#bst akeldama
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